Bipolar Disorder
I let a strident scream escape my lips.
Life feels less relevant at this point
No optimism in panoramic view
Any future seems undeserving of effort,
Existing for yesterday is not living
I let a strident scream escape my lips.
I am aware of all relevant statistics,
The chances of becoming one are excessive
The reality of it not just forming there,
Causes the apprehension that it has always lived,
Within me
I let a strident scream escape my lips.
Copyright © Melissa Ross | Year Posted 2007
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