Bipolarizing

Severed breaths: Inhale Dysphoria, Exhale the Mania-- Pretend to pretend there is An In-Between Without crumpled, sweat-soaked bedsheets Clutched to cover rib bones peeking out a bit further Each daynightneverforever, Their brittle little fingers threaten Of perforating scribbled, paper canvas skin (almost) And Silences, so thick, Are stuffed with tissues and White Noise-- Because nobody speaks; Without fingerpaint walls Where today's Magnum Opus blooms in bluepinkorangeredbrown (Where tomorrow's Disapproval sits in wait), Barefoot on a carpet littered with technicolor shreds of cut up shirts and pants and bras Glue-sticked to shirts and pants and bras Planting fleeting thoughts of fashion school in the wake And of Re-unalphabetizing the bookshelves. Playing pretend is therapeutic-- Cognitive-Behavioral therapy said so. "If you pretty please pinkie promise To swallow and say 'ahhhh' Instead of spitting it out again (like you wish to purge your bitterly dissolving Soul) Nobody will be urging you to tear your own throat out (Anymore).