Up and down I go,

Moving with the motion

Of this psychotic ride.

What is worse is that

This does not end,

It is on a continuous loop

That often gets stuck,

Either high or low.

Isn’t being bipolar lovely?


Micro Poetry

A flurry of micro poems for today.



A damaged flower

is an unwanted one.



We are humans,

Not demons

Or angels.



One pill

Equals goodbye.



My mind descends

With each passing day.



Be not the sheep

But the shepherd.



With a broken wing,

The bird looks to the sun,

Knowing it can never fly again.