Bipolar Feelings

There is something brewing, deep down

under all the pretending and “I’m alrights”.

It submerges with and hides behind the

manners and the social norms.

 

Maybe everyone’s got it,

some worse than others.

So let me tell you about mine.

 

It hibernates during winter and

slowly creeps throughout summer.

It haunts me even when it’s not there;

it likes to play games, dangerous games

that even you couldn’t win.

 

Its kingdom is waste;

once you enter, you must bow

down to its cruel rules.

 

The only way out is unknown

because no one has ever come back from it…

neither sane nor sound.

 

Perhaps you think you have…not really, because it’s

always waiting to strike again.

 

You cannot see it unless you pay attention,

because it’s just as invisible as it is invincible,

shackling and binding my soul where I can’t reach it.

 

It binds me so that I can’t see anything else,

but its one dimensional mist in high definition.

It covers me like a blanket made of stuff, stinging,

stone-hard metal wire and it

squeezes me until I can’t breathe.

 

It is futile to cry for help, because no one

will truly hear you unless they live in the same

wasteland of a realm.

 

Some say it’s like drowning, slowly dying,

being tortured and even living in hell.

 

For me it’s very different because it’s simply indescribable.

 

It is so painful that I would rather drown,

slowly die, be tortured and live in hell

to get away from it.

 

But it won’t let me. It doesn’t let you.

It’s a thief, a master class of its art, a one of a kind.

 

It knows what it’s doing.

 

So it robs you of everything, your energy,

your will to get up. Once it’s done, and tired of having fun

with your misery, it leaves –

to hibernate, regenerate and accumulate

until the next summer.

 

An endless cycle of eternity.

 

 

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