I Died but, I am Still a Body

It must have been sad the day I died 25 years ago on the day my daughter was born.

You see I had postpartum bipolar with the onset of my bipolar occurring at the exact moment of my delivery of my beautiful baby.

The exact moment in time and the day My Kylie Rose was born, I died.

All of the old me was gone. She died.

I am sorry for my death and that I have left.

I am sorry I have died.

I am sorry for your loss and my loss, as you see there is only the bipolar me left.

Most people do not like the bipolar me that is left in the world. I do not like the bipolar me, but that is all I have left. It is the only me I have left inside of me.

I see all the pain in the eyes of my family when they look at me. I see and know the pain they feel for the sister and daughter and niece that was once wonderful and full of life and love, but no longer exists.

I see and know your pain and I have always felt it.

It hurts me more than you know to know how much I have hurt you all.

I am so sorry that you have never been able to properly grieve the loss of my life of who I used to be. I died 25 years ago.

I know it must have been hard when I died as you could not grieve properly for  my death because…

there was still a body.

You could not have a funeral and grieve my loss because…

there was still a body.

I was murdered, but you could not prove it because…

there was still a body.

Bipolar was my murderer. He killed me and stole my life, but you could not prove it because…

there was still a body.

I have died but you can not believe it because…

I am still a body.

I know the word of the day was rhyme,

but I could not rhyme my poem this time.

That was a free verse poem I wrote,

with my open heart and soul I float.

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