Late Night Poetry (My Insomnia is Due to Creativity)

I remember the isolation,
The defeat,
As I wandered halls, invisible,
The journey taking to infinity.
The way it seemed they never believed,
The voice that I could not muster.
I fought, so hard, back then,
For things I was not, am not, even now,
To feel worthwhile, to feel like more
Than a talentless hack, worthless,
Wasting space that would be better off empty.

Happiness
Is not impossible when the devil whispers in your ear,
When you are caught in a web of lies
By a brain that never tells you the truth,
Instead, happiness
Is a difficult mountain,
Where sometimes you can picnic,
Breathing in the air,
Before an avalanche, a landslide,
Catches you in an airless tunnel,
Pushes you back so you climb
A terrible, insurmountable height
All over again.

When you are left in silence,
With a voice that works, but is unheard,
When the world around you is tough,
And difficult,
And filled with rocky terrain, while
You are left with bare feet,
You begin to believe what
Hell would have you convinced of.

Your inner demons
Are the worst ones to fight,
Because at least outward
You can cast anger and terror
Without ripping open cuts
You thought were finally healed.

It takes realizing
In the half-way milestone from self-hate to self-love
That your life was difficult,
That your ups were wonderful,
But your downs were utter despair,
That feeling sad is something you are worth doing,
That pity of self does not mean you are selfish
Or do not care,
But instead have finally taken the time
To realize you need peace of mind too.

So when your voice is, at last, heard,
And you are above the raging waters,
Breathing,
And you catch the life float,
And are holding on for dear life,
Knowing
That you will fall under, eventually -
But not now, not this moment -
It is okay to tighten your grip,
And shed some tears for yourself;
For your lost innocence and lost chances
Because you are battling a disease
That is misunderstood
And so very often unseen.

And it is okay to take a moment
And admit to yourself
That you have reasons to be sad,
That your problems are equal,
Not lesser,
To the problems of others,
And that the devil's lies can be overcome,
And defeated,
And that does not mean you have to be happy,
It only means that you have to realize,
Once and for all,
That you are worthy and people love you.

The worst trouble
Of having your mind
As your worst enemy
Is that only you
Can enter your mind;
Only you
Can rewrite your thoughts.
But it can be done, it has been done,
And you have done it.
And the best part is,
All your accomplishments?
All your downfalls?
You are not alone
Even if
They're not always with you.
Even if
God cannot be hugged.

So yes, you are battling a disease
More malicious than cancer,
More misunderstood than evil,
More unnoticed than heaven and hell,
But look at the path behind you,
That mountain you've climbed up yourself,
That ice you've broken through,
And take a moment.
Just breathe.
You're doing well.