He says, "When she's manic like this, I can't keep up with her!"
He is lost,
Lost in the endless sea of my energy,
In the tsunamis of syllables
And the way the sun touches my skin, flowing through me.
I am a force to be reckoned with,
Daughter of the sky,
Made from dust of the stars.
They beckon to me with their brilliance
And the gleam of secrets they will not share.
I want to know where the edges of their shine go,
Want them to swallow me into their vastness.
I am a thunderstorm,
The gale force winds that shake the very earth he walks on.
My synapses connect at light speeds,
Weaving the strands of the universe.
I am a power,
Muse of the way the leaves quake and change color,
Poet to Mother Nature.
Of course he cannot keep up.
It is hard to run in flip flops!

The electricity flows through my bones,
Making love through my synapses
As it courses through my system.
I am alive with the buzz,
The heat and cacophony.
I must share this with the world,
Charge the very air with my existence.
I could power the whole universe
If only some of it would leave my body.

The price of being alive
Is coping with the memories of what I nearly
Didn't survive.

I am a figment of your imagination,
A specter of the night,
The shadow passing as the sun rises.
My reality is intangible,
As fleeting as daylight hours.
Do not search for me in the dark hiding places.
You will only feel the breeze of my existence,
Fluttering by unnoticed.

My poetry longs for the disorder,
For the way mania smells like stardust
And tastes like bubblegum clouds.
It craves the buzzing energy like angry bees
Or champagne bubbles in my bloodstream.
Poetry finds beauty in the depression,
In the way sunrises fade to gray
Or food turns to ash in my mouth.
Poetry does not care that 1 in 5
People with bipolar will take their own life.
It is only searching for more syllables to intertwine.
I must be concerned with the consequences,
Diligent in my course of action.
It is the first time in my life my poetry and I do not agree.
Stability may not be poetic,
It is hard won and jagged edges,
But I would not trade it for syllabic symphonies.
I hope stability will be mine to keep.

Find me infinity
So we can travel there together.

Sometimes I wonder
If those who've never experienced the grueling lows of depression
Truly experience the moment
When the sun catches your soul in just the right way
And you finally feel warmth in your bones.