The manic times are the best,
You feel entitled to success,
Full of ideas,
Full of energy,
Laughter,
Fun,
Untouchable,
Witty,
Sometimes even pretty.
Then boom,
I hear a clap of thunder,
I see the lightning is very close,
It’s heading towards me,
Before I have time to even think,
I’m catapulted to the other border of the spectrum,
Down,
Suicidal depression.
I am weak,
All I do is sleep,
Exhausted from silencing the plan,
My thoughts are intrusive,
Actions inconclusive,
All alone,
Fearful of pushing people away,
Tight lipped,
I’m fighting,
But it could go either way.
