Bipolar

Dear cloudy beautiful soul,

Behind your black and blue eyes I see every color.

When they try to label the way moonlight and sun coexist within you, remember

you are not just double sided,

Light reflects off you from every angle.

 

But you scared me oh so much

When you told me you chased stars into the middle of the highway and laid down on the pavement

Waiting

Maybe to die or maybe to see if someone, if anyone would stop you

I blamed the white pills

I blamed the painted paper

And when I try to tell you those were headlights, that was a car,

You shake like four shots of caffeine and tell me no, those are comets, those are spaceships; perception

Is something you can’t see but the only thing you aren’t blind to.

 

And that night

When you were high and spinning

In that dark grey place where the sky smells like smoke and the people’s laughter, people you have never seen before but know, is so light it could blow away in the wind.

You laughed and told me that your boyfriend pulled your body out from under pillow light wheels at eighty miles per hour.

How funny it is that your life tip-toes on milliseconds,

How funny it is that you’re here to tell me this story,

How funny it is that you’re even here at all.

 

So please,

Stay peaceful.

Your life is not something so light as a daydream.

For you are a child of space, you are made of dust and fire.

Oh how the earth looks beautiful from down here,

But I know you think everything is better from far away.

 

Like the sunset, you only want to be loved from a distance.

 

You live in twilight, tripping on stars and dancing around darkness

And no, I don’t think you’re addicted to danger.

You’re just breaking all the mirrors that showed you two stars for eyes when you know you have galaxies.

After all, diagnosis is only perception my dear, and Earth was not built for night sky angles like you.

This poem is about: 
My community
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