Poetry from the Hospital – May 9

Laughing, Connecting –

Oops! I can’t feel happy;

I’m depressed.

Guilty, Ashamed.

Laughing, Connecting –

Stab! See how you

Want to die.

Afraid, silenced.

Laughing, Connecting –

Bam! I’m not in

that role anymore.

Empty, yearning.

Lost in a story –

Splat! You can’t understand

Or remember anymore.

Deflated, defeated.

 

Bipolar ravages lives, minds. You can roll over and give up and live next to potential, yet always short of it. You can adapt and notice limitations as mere borders that outline potential’s shape. Amorphous and floating those borders may be. But you can dance with them. And find life within the ravages. New life burrows and blooms from a fallen log. Never the manic high reaching beyond tree tops. Nor the depressed, decrepit log testing to lie forgotten. Surprise! the bipolar. Fill potential’s shape with a new tree that bends but does not break, that branches up and down and thrives inside its boundaries. Look to the bonsai tree…

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2 responses to “Poetry from the Hospital – May 9

  1. The final paragraph, wow. ❤

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