I wrote this poem a few years after my diagnosis. It's called Riding the Train.

On a dark and empty train I am a solitary rider
A sad and lonely journey through tunnels filled with shadows.
Taking seats around me, they whisper words of anguish
that break my heart and leave me, cold and in despair.

The train begins to slow for a stop that lies ahead
The shadows rise to leave their seats for those who wait to board.
They buzz around me like angry bees, their agitation stinging
leaving welts of irritation that pop beneath my skin.

The train is growing brighter, angry voices turn to laughter
Music beats a rhythm through me
It grabs my hands and sends me spinning into arms that want to hold me
Kissing mouths of strangers willing
Firecrackers blasting loudly
Burning hot inside my head.

Speeding trains run out of steam, bright lights begin to sputter
The plug is pulled, the music quiets and party hats roll down the aisle.
My body tired, droops in a seat, my mind is numb and reeling
Another ride on the crazy train has chewed me up and spit me out.