You think that I’m crazy, maybe to you.

We have different ideas, we have different truths. 

I see things in colour, across a dark sky. 

Wings full of stars and the brightest green eyes.

Dragons and dungeons, gods and their light.

Schooled fish that float on the moon late at night.

Nature is vibrant, it whispers to me.

The clouds take the shape of whatever it sings. 

Sometimes it scares me, when it does then I run.

Away to a place that I know it can’t come.

Sometimes they catch me, and I’m grasped in their claws.

My heart beats so quickly, when they start to talk. 

Sometimes I listen, sometimes I don’t.

And sometimes it’s hard to let go if they won’t.

Once I was saved by a knight wearing white.

They burst down the door, broke the darkness with light. 

I was pulled on their steed and we galloped away.

We rode through the forest til the mid of the day.

When I slid off its back there were rocks on the shore.

The first step I made took me to my front door. 

I stepped in and I saw it, a canvas so tall.

It grew from my feet to the roof on the wall. 

It asked me to paint it, and it loops off its hook.

It opened right up and turned into a book. 

I wrote down my story, it happened for me.

You think I’m crazy, but I want you to see.

I did see the wings with the stars underneath.

I did see the dragons, and the gods spoke to me.

I did feel afraid, because for me it was true.

I felt everything always, and it lingers in lieu. 

I did hear the canvas, I did write that book.

It really did shudder and loop off its hook. 

You think I’m crazy and maybe I am.

Or maybe I’m someone you just don’t understand. 

When I came back to your truth, and back to your world.

I never forgot all the things that I saw. 

I’m crazy to you but to me, I’m unique.

Its just that I feel some things differently.

I’m proud of my person I’m proud of my life.

Even in struggle, I’m proud I get by. 

I’m proud of my insight I’m proud of my mind.

I’m proud that despite it, I’m not falling behind. 

You think I’m unfixable, or a little too hard.

You think I can’t manage, or let down my guard. 

But I put the work in, every day, every breath.

I face the truth of my world and I thrive in its stead. 

I know that I’m different, and I can be strange.

But we all have our quirks at the end of the day. 

You think I’m defeated, you think that I’m broken.

But I live my days knowing I can get through it. 

You think I can’t handle the stress its too much.

But I know how to take back control of my life.

You think your opinion is the one that I care for.

But I care for my own and the values I work for.

You think I can’t take it but maybe I can.

You think I’m not worthy, but maybe I am. 

Hey you! 
Thanks for reading! I had the idea to create a collection of poetry to represent the very real work I do in supporting people in mental health crisis. This is the first of four, and my initial inspiration for continuing the collection theme with different topics! This one I hoped might offer a potential opportunity to introduce a perspective that maybe is new to someone! 

I hope the words find their way to your heart in some way. 

Along the edge of a dream I’ll see you! 
Roux