Unfocused
Manic is when she is at her best
Broad strokes on an open canvas
Red, red, red
You hate red
But that’s all you see
Make it stop
Its too many words
Falling
Manic is when she is at her worst
Unable to sleep and volatile
Details in an open picture
Gentle hues of spring
Focus
Say something
You open your mouth and no words come out
This poem is about:
Me