December Bipolar

Stories and poems Love and shared coffees Bus rides and jokes I saw the sun glimmering The corners crept in The room became smaller Breathing got harder and voices became more My body became a canvas of my own doing The blood became more and the smile slipped away in the dark I became lost in a world of Bipolar Depression With a new mixture of pills of various variety of color The line between reality and fantasy became blury Until a line was no more I found comfort in creating art over my arms hidden by clothes My days became a mixture of pills and emotional outbursts It was like falling asleep, slowly at first and then all together I was destroyed I was distorted I was redefined by darkness of late night cries I was no more I became a silent void I became nothing I became defined by my illness I became my worst fear I am a beautiful void I am I am I am lost and captured in a glass jar labeled December Bipolar I am no more

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dian-micheal-marcovecchio

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