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In the morning,
I woke to this sky that was white
Brightly lit by the sun's light.
Then the temperature rose,
So rose the water droplets in the air
And now my sky was a soft blue
Reflecting all that came its way.
The show ended with all hues,
White,yellow,red,orange,blue
Creating unparalleled balance of confusion and grandeur
Just like it had planned to.
Then the sky was smeared and smudged with black
Just like the tired,innocent face of a child
After an entire day of play.
But the cold night is made warm
And it's emptiness filled
With the bright bold moon, that radiates
Like the red round dot between the jet black brows.
The tiny sparkling stars
Like the sandalwood paste on a bride's face
Shouts in celebration for all the greatness it has witnessed.

But sometimes without any rhyme or reason
The sky turns grey,
Like most of the time is my mood.
I thought it would rain,but it turned out to be like me too.
Sometimes the grey is too long
The clouds too big.
And they collide like warriors
Producing sparks from their swords.
Thus comes the lightning,the expressions on my face.
The thunder follows close,where I raise my voice.
Then finally it breaks,never into drizzles
But always a stromy rain
Causing destruction
Claiming life's on its way.
Now I have finally realized
It's better to have a drizzle every now and then
To cool the soar,instead of deepening it any more
With either the flood or the drought
Rylie Lucas Jan 2019
Moods can change and switch
Sometimes on their own
Making a sad moment exciting
Making a happy moment dreadful

Like flipping on and off a light switch
These emotions change
Not on purpose, of course
The emotions rearranged

If a day wasn't already hard
This would make it harder
Being dragged into an abyss
This is what it's like to be bipolar
What I deal with every day, for the people that don't know.
Rita Sailor Jan 2019
been staying awake doing an inventory
picking my own thoughts from those i borrowed
how do you not miss them? guess you sleep better now
Emma Jan 2019
She loves you more than I will,
And Lord knows but you don’t love me.
Her circular curves –
Filled with such verve –
Blind so you can’t hardly see.
You could try to escape,
You tail-eating snake,
But your own misery
Is such better company
Than us mere mortals can provide.
You stew in your own **** unhappiness –
And I could be wrong,
To hate you for it,
But **** being right anyway.
Rita Sailor Jan 2019
i fear we now have more in common than before
i figured it out the day i learnt to drive
and now he's standing in the doorway with my words in his mouth
André Morrison Jan 2019
Sinking moods, forever stuck in interlude
Staring at grey skies like it's a reflection of the mind
Bearing no fruits of labour; a slave to life's servitude
Constant excessive sighs & an inability to unwind

Only light in one's eyes, is a reflection off one's phone
No life in one's voice, only a overcast monotone
Vessel's surrounded, but one's soul is alone
Drained from weeping & can't even groan

Liquor & ******; distractions from the consciousness
To put the anguish at ease, digressions is a necessity
Shut the door on itself & swallow the keys
Endlessly stuck in a state of cecity
Rita Sailor Jan 2019
how do i live with an open wound, you said, unsure where it is, yet already sensing it's about to rupture
make sure to change band-aid every so often and learn how to cook
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