Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

When my enthusiasm is high and I feel joyful 
my mind is orange.
Wildly and outrageously colorful, 
bursting with happy to help sad out.

Sad is gray. 
She wants to hold me under her muck 
until I cannot breathe.

I begin shrieking for orange and hot pink and yellow
to save me, and they do.

Brown and gray hate me, 
and I despise and detest and ignore them whenever possible.
They want me to be depressed and angry, my most non-self.

I would be quite mad, certifiable probably,
if orange and yellow and neon pink did not shower
me with love and respect and bliss.

I would be carried off in a straight jacket
if people realized how psychedelic I am inside.
But I keep it under wraps.

It is bad enough to have nightmares where
I am screaming and kicking, trying to be myself as 
infamous gray and angry brown attempt to 
drowned me in the squishy mud of Status Quo Swamp.  

Sh!
Rest assured.
I do not go quietly.

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