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Some call it bi-polar
I prefer manic-depression
It fits us better with adequate expression
We live our life in swooping loops
We strive at our peak then it droops
And the doleful drudge is destitute
Until all progress stops and stoops
To a halt, face down in mud and roots

And then we rise
Called back to life by a guiding light held deep inside
Sorely self-aware, we work until we burst
Droll desperation, at our best when at our worst
"Wow you got your **** together you lost and soulless ruffian."
Then we hit our peak and it all starts back up again
 Feb 2017 Bridget Ewing
Dhaara T
Under the naked tree
They saw each other drenched in silver moonlight
Revelling in a mad dance of love
Echoing moans through the night

Two lost souls
Had found one another
To lose themselves
To each other

They'd found their spot
Where not a being would intervene
So there, they reunited, each night
Sparking a silent fire, in this place so serene

Under the naked tree
Revelling in each other's sight
Began a mad dance of love
Echoing moans through the night

Tides rose, and winds spooked passers-by
As from him, sweet kisses, she stole
A soul, free from the binds of its corpse
Had just found another, to make her a whole
I have etched 'no' everywhere on my skin
So the next time you come near
When you touch me and the bumps rise
It can scream what I have never had the strength to say
Copyright under Bianca Reyes
All rights reserved
2017
Blah bla blah
Enjoy
 Feb 2017 Bridget Ewing
Solaces
I miss the phantoms of you..
I miss you haunting me..
I use to be afraid of your ghost..
And then you left..
I could never leave..
I wish you would come back..
But you left because of me..
And I stay because of you..
But time one day whispered into my ear..
And told me I was the phantom, I was the ghost that scared you away..
It seem like only days..
But truly they were years..
And you returned to me..
Silver and gray..
And showed me a way to heaven..
Are we the ghost?
Did you know?
I have vines growing around my ribs now.
A tree growing in my guts where I used to hold galaxies.
Churning stardust catching between teeth,
Painting my lips.
Seeping out of my skin and into the sink.

I am a book of metaphors and paradox.
I am nothing at all.
I speak you fair with a liars tongue,
All made of silver and moondust.
Easy words.

I am celestial,
And though your starstuff still makes me sick in the mornings,
Picking your shine from my teeth
All your refuse still inside me wretched into the sink.
Though my limbs are scarred with an effort to see my own galaxies
I am through obsessing over celestial souls.

Too many boys and girls with stars in their eyes
Or Saturn's rings around their fingers
Have caught me with lunar promises and magic fallen from careless lips
Like meteor showers.
I'm rid of my stars.

Now I've been planting flowers in my ribs
The vines mingle with a web of forget-me-nots and bleeding hearts
Lavender buds sprouting from old scars
I pass the 3 am itch off as them growing
Learn to ignore it.
 Feb 2017 Bridget Ewing
Gidgette
All we "writers" "poets"
Walk with a limp
Have a thorn in our side
We're a collective gimp
And in our words, hide
Yet, bare all
Our souls, hearts, scars
Our memories, call
Observationists, we are
Feeling too much,
Feeding on ours, and others, scars
We, are watchers of, life
The good, the bad,
love and strife
We watch the happy, The sad,
All heaven and hell, knows
We're all "mad"
And it shows
Is this bad?
No
It's what we are
We all walk with a limp
It's getting darker every minute.
I'm scared.
The light is disappearing.
The silence is surrounding me.
Not even my shadow is here.
Every second my mind gets filled with fear.
I'm shaking, it's so cold.
I'm dying.

It's a delusion.
My mind is playing tricks on me.
I'm lost.
There's nothing I can do.
I can't escape my own imagination.
I wish I just could fall asleep.
But if I do, I might not wake up again.

I need to hide.
I need to get away.
I can't wait for so long.
The light is deceiving me.
It's not the first time this happened.
The memories from last time is gone.
But everything seems so familiar.
The dark.
The moon.
And myself in this state.

*Am I going crazy again?
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