Running towards a freight train headed at full speed towards nowhere is the equivalent of loving a girl with bipolar

It seemed like an adrenaline rush until the impact

My manias go like this;

I love you more than that couch cushion loves your ***

more than that fist loved his face,

more than sense.

because manias don’t make sense.

My depressions went like this;

black was the brightest color I could see yet

I still needed sunglasses to make eye contact with the reaper

It went like this;

last night I tried eating spiders to give myself an excuse to feel afraid of myself

you held me up until my legs atrophied and there was no point anymore

loving a girl with bipolar a game ending in

manic darkness