Being erased

There is this indescribable feeling,

Rooting deep inside my chest.

Urging me to go insane.

Yet I must let go of this temptation to cure the insanity out of my being

My illness ruined brain runs my system

I wish to be able to crave it out of my being.

All of this comes down to one question,

If all of all my brilliance comes out,

When I'm a danger to myself

And I'm beaten down bruised all over,

What am I to do when all is well?

And how long can wellness withstand my mind?

I used to make it pretty,

But I can't anymore, the pills overtake my creativity

And my sense of being is erased