#bipolardepression
Dear roadkill mother,
Or was it rotten child dove?
Please forgive me, so many skins, your name was lost within.
An eternity of my springs consumed,
re-breaking silted graves for your winter fists of bitter tansy.
Staring through the silt with leaden eyes,
I saw you: a background of blooming carcasses with my face.
A bruised field of faded thistles and ****** tansy
bursting through glass-blown ribs.
You hold everything yet nothing, Mother—but why hold me?
I see you, but I don’t see myself anymore.
Still, dig your own Decembers now;
let my patience be your mime.
While I search for myself in the spring, please remember to breathe.
Air is free, even in the rime.
Your lost April,
AC
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 4:21 PM UTC
You ever feel out of place in your own space?
like your lost, unwanted, a stranger in your own body.
Feels like your watching the ****** movie that it's your life but that's just it though; your WATCHING it, not LIVING it. like your a guest in your own world—your own chapter because somehow we created this invisible wall we must to cross to become apart of it all and yet for whatever reason we don't; as if we're afraid of what might happen or is it that we've just gotten used to WATCHING our lives go on rather than actually LIVING it.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 6:44 AM UTC
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
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 12:54 AM UTC