Bipolar is notorious
and is not glorious,
but instead is hazardous
and can be dangerous
for reasons that are obvious
to others that me be curious,
of an illness
they do not
You cannot see the pain
that eats away my heart and soul
creating death to live inside me.
Only a beating heart placed inside a carcass
where living and breathing a breath of life
seems too difficult and painful for survival,
reaching the bottomless bottom of a deep dark pit of despair and sorrow,
only to somehow miraculously overcome that fall and deep dark grave,
to rapidly rise to an extreme floating hot air balloon swirling high
into the skies above and beyond anything imaginable
to a brain that is void of any mania or bipolar.
My brain, my racing rapid flying thoughts and ideas inside me,
encompassing and overtaking every inch of my mind, body, and soul,
flying, soaring higher and higher,
continuously moving at a rate that is uncontrollable
to me that I cannot contain the speed or height I am traveling.
I fear I will not be able to stop the rise of my mania,
not knowing where I am travelling,
my destination is sometimes not determined by me,
but is uncontrollable by my will, my every thought and desire I have at that particular moment in time.
The speed of my rapid rise and euphoria inside my mind begins to feel scary,
rapid thoughts and words ricochet so fast inside my brain,
that each thought seems to increase the pain inside my mind
as I can feel the sensation of each idea
as it hits the sides of my brain and bounces back off rapidly to the other side.
When my mania slows down
and turns into hypomania,
my bipolar becomes glorious,
and is no longer notorious.
Now my hypomania,
where I usually live,
brings out the familiar me,
the me I know,
the me you know
the beauty of my creativity,
and beautiful heart
is now living abundantly, freely and lovingly inside of me
shining out for the world to see
and to share the me
I love to be,
and I hope the me
you love to see.
Bipolar should not be notorious,
bipolar can be fabulously glorious.
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