Bipolar

Mon, 04/22/2019 - 10:28 -- rlwise

At first I went

                        low.

Real, real

                        low

until I couldn’t

remember the

                        up

anymore.

Couldn’t remember what it

                        felt like

                        tasted like

                        sounded like.

Couldn’t remember it’s

                        warmth

or the goodness in it’s

                        cold.

That is

until the

                        up

was all I knew.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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