"The Silence Is So Loud"

Floating along the mountains, just above the ground
Soaring high, seeing, feeling and flying
The silence of wind so ******* loud
Falling down suddenly, what a rude awakening

But we do not wake, we just quietly stare
At the ground growing closer
Knowing we will not splatter here
Sometimes wishing it so, just for the exposure

Exposure of our fearless mind, so terrified
Not of the rise or fall, as we know them well
Afraid of our weakness, and that our fear might be verified
That we might let go, forgetting we're under a spell

We allow our rise to continue and soar without regard
And do not consider the descent we know is coming
Wind bustling our ears muffling the thoughts we continuously disregard
For the rise is beautiful, like flying and dancing

The high is absolutely thrilling, we can no longer think clearly
We try to stay with the energizing adrenaline, we try to gain composure
Yet, we grow weary
So here comes the free fall, watch the ground grow closer

And we begin to beg ... for a level head to rest in our cave.
Oh the great highs and the terrible lows. A level head is all we crave...

bipolar dreams
you think you know about these things
how they go from right to left so seamlessly
how i go from up and down
and you’ll ever notice the change in the symphony
my instruments plays melancholy and the next a beautiful sunrise victory
some days i can laugh when nothing is in front of me
then another i'm crying until my heart atrophies

they put my on theses meds that made me my feel like my skin was crawling
my eyes appeared dry but i couldn’t stop from bawling
i feel like i have whiplash from a rollercoaster at six flags
its funny because when i'm manic my favorite color is yellow but when i'm sad its the most disgusting thing ive ever seen
i'm stuck living in these bipolar dreams
they say nothing is ever as it seems
but have you looked in the mirror and seen a black void where your brain should be
that your serotonin isn’t mixing with your dopamine

this is how your life is when your neurotransmitters don’t work properly

Hey little fiddle
I drink too much
You smoke too little

I met your mom
And your dad
Your little sister is EMOtional
Groundhogs day sad

I talk without reason
Left a bad man
For his treason

Let go of obscurity
To find the one thing I gotta be

Me

So hey little fiddle
Your moods swing from
Happy
Sad
Mad
American Rag-Tag
Glad

So play your notes
Take your tallies
I'll count votes

Hey little fiddle
Check out this finger
For you, right here
In the middle

This week I have wandered.
alone, a lost ghost among my regular haunts.
from the coffee shop in the park to the icy edge of the ocean I strayed,
Then returned to the warm yellow windows of my family home.
My hair is a mess, hasn’t been washed and left in a low tuft, at the nape of my neck, twined together with a green satin ribbon.

This week I have wandered.
Alone, a lost ghost among my regular haunts,
from the kitchen I crawled back to the warmth of my solitary sanctuary.
And there I stayed, as normal, in my navy knee length sweatshirt and joggers.

And now, as I sit in my single bed, pale back against the radiator, the tears finally come.

I surely saw an angel,
For a solid space in time.
I surely heard her singing,
For a love she longed to find.
I surely felt a silken hand,
Brush tenderly with mine.
I surely saw an angel once,
Before she fell in line.

Suddenly there’s blackest joy,
Filling every vein.
I sing of luck and liberty
That’s quickly stripped away.
My touch is dark and fever some
Infecting every day.
I surely saw an angel once,
She has slowly slipped away.

happy or depressed
life is a balancing act
so easy to slip...
moods that fall can rise again
wait for tomorrow's new day

happy or depressed
life is a balancing act
so easy to slip...
moods that fall can rise again
wait for tomorrow's new day