Living with and overcoming Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder
I’m rising up from the pits of hell I’ve been living in. You will never lead me here again.
Devil, I rebuke you in Jesus name, I am never going to be the same.
Of my thoughts I will be in control. On me, your lies had taken their toll.
I have this friend, He has my back. peace and joy I will no longer lack.
Jesus, I am ready to follow your lead, I’ve got the faith of a mustard seed.
Jill L. Ware
Something that I have never been, that was the title for my brother Glenn.
My sister running close behind, me they’d have to come find.
Usually, I was hiding somewhere scared, for this game, I was never prepared.
I wished to be tough like them, one day God would make me strong, I just didn’t know when.
For that strength I have waited a lifetime. Apparently, God has a plan and that plan isn’t mine.
Jill L. Ware
Sometimes what life gives us is hard to take. One moves on, the other plans death by lake.
From others my feelings becoming detached, Ruined friendships that will never be patched.
Bad behaviors are they hers or are they mine? I wish her to leave I’ve drawn the line.
She comes out of me when I can’t find the words to say. Good thing, I was walking into traffic to play,
I cry, I am tired of the world today. She says whiney bitch get out of the way.
Often seen with a shake and a slur, is it me or is it her?
If she thinks I am being used, you are next to be abused.
When she plays I don’t have a clue, is it me or is it you?
My advice is stay away from Jill number one and two.
Jill L. Ware
Always making flight the choice for me, I’d stay if they’d let me be.
Tell me what to do and see what occurs, this is my life, not yours.
Tending to bullying I never do, I fear confrontation, no matter who.
Never making decision so I don’t get sick, too late now I have some ass to kick.
Pick a number get in line, after I’ve let you have it I will be fine.
When I am manic I talk big and bad, most of the time I’m just sad.
No specific reason why, every 10 years I wish to die.
I haven’t been me for a very long time, how do I regain a life that’s mine?
My companion gone nearly 2 years now, I managed thus far not knowing how.
I didn’t say I managed well, life since has been hell.
They say Love is patient, it is not always kind.
Jill L. Ware
I saw you yesterday, in this game with you I play.
Keeping my distance so you don’t see, it is way past time to let it be.
I make sure not to cross the line, the game not yours but mine.
My schemes planned days ahead, our relationship a long time dead.
To get your approval I tried for years, my love for life reduced to tears.
The words you said I hear as if yesterday, you had no clue in my head they’d stay.
I look in the mirror as I become skin and bones, my self esteem someone else owns.
It doesn’t matter large or small, I’m not sure you loved me at all.
I pray one day to adapt a love for me, maybe then there will be no fear of letting you see. I’ll know there is nothing wrong with me.
Once busy with hustle and flow, Main Street the place to go.
Alive with families supporting their own, Main Street a place outgrown.
Cars cruising up and down the street, A Friday night couldn’t be beat.
All you needed could be found there, Now people shop online without a care.
Hometown businesses a thing of the past, How much longer can Main Street last?
I’m guilty of doing the same, Main Street dying what a shame.
Jill L. Ware
Walking along the beaten path, trodden down by travelers past.
A creek runs parallel along the way, upon the banks it’s ripples play.
A twig snaps from some place near, it is my friend Mr. Deer.
The yipping of a fox heard from afar, telling me stay where you are.
This terrain can be a beast, it isn’t easy to say the least.
The beauty that I see, worth the trek to me.
The raccoon wears his menacing mask, foraging is his task.
As I near rabbits scurry away, after I pass returning to their play.
The squirrel it’s agility freeing, is content with being.
Hawks glide above with style and grace, something special is this place.
Nature brings us ice and snow, in time cold will secede to the Heat. Soon colors of green begin to show, old man winter will retreat.
We see the children in the park as they play, their laughter lifts our Spirits High. The birds sing inviting spring to stay, happy and content to keep them we try.
Rabbits as they hop to their destination, taking time to fight along the way. The trees buds begin to sprout, along with the perennials left lay. Spring awaited a treat no doubt, she is beautiful a day like today.
The queen bee searches for something to eat, after her winter in solitude, the butterflies beauty cannot be beat, along with the bee shows his gratitude.
The Woodpecker taps the tree to show it belongs to him, he doesn’t like to share. Frogs and tadpoles start to appear, the frogs in the distance we hear.
Soon it will be time to fish, spring awaited and answered wish.
JILL L. WARE
The breeze brushes across my face, Cooling with its strength and speed.
I think I’ve finally found my place, the lake having the serenity I need.
The wind slows as the sun appears, bringing with it the afternoon heat.
A frog somewhere behind me I hear, a day like this is hard to beat.
I watch the minnows from where I sit, swimming past without a care.
Mother finally comes into sight, mess with her babies I not dare.
The baskets hang as beautiful as can be, Blooms full with color of white and red.
The birds have yet to visit me, when they do they will be happy and fed.
The hammock hangs off in the distance, I wont use it without assistance you see.
Falling out I’m not taking the chance, There is a scardy cat in me.
As the ripples gently kiss the shore, the shore completely unaware.
I grab the pole with my favorite lure, For a while the lake with it I share.
Jill L. Ware
The Bouquet is full and bright, on this God has surely shone his light.
Geraniums crimson red, the color of the blood His son shed.
Suzy she is a black eyed lady, there isn’t a thing about her shady.
The Mandeville bursting with pink blooms, heavy with buds it’s stems loom.
With petals as fine as paper machete, the poppy has come out to play.
The cornflower in the deepest blue, is always staring at you.
Then tiny but true is the one called baby blue.
Jill L. Ware
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