The thing with Bipolar
Your thoughts go unchecked?
I sow them, I nurture them
Feed them and watch awhile
What grows is not a pretty
The flower that you behold
Is not sweet-smelling
They have robbed me of good thoughts
And destroyed them. What’s left?
Just a hatred of yourself
Again, knee-deep in soil and shit
Fighting, with the roots of weeds
That I nurtured in the first place