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6 February 2024

bipolar distemper

 the blunt edge of depression     rolls across my portion of the sky     it’s gonna rain again    nobody can gauge when or why    somebody help me     I’m coming undone       we all have secret sorrows       I’ve had enough of mine     I woke up into a nightmare      I might never sleep again    some have wounds that do not show       but they bleed     they bleed from the soul    I’m not helpless – I’m hopeless      they call it suicidal ideation    my life is a burning building     I may have to jump     it’s burn or dive      there is a terror beyond falling    the choices here are stark   

bipolar distemper is a side effect of living      and living is a disease with one cure     and one cure alone    I won’t cry in public     I won’t rend my clothes       I’ll weep on the inside    I’ll weep from my soul      there’s no comfort to be had    no magic pills    my soul carries more scars    than living tissue   this is not sadness       sadness will pass like the common cold     this is cancer     a cancer of the soul      I feel so ashamed        to carry this burden     I’ve done something wrong     something so huge   I can’t even comprehend it      the devil has hold of my soul     and from where I sit now       he’s welcome to it

 

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