Bipolar
You're all just blurry shapes in the background
My head feels heavy, fat, n round.
My highs are high but my lows scrape by
And my lungs barely survive on a whimpering sigh
I don't know whats wrong with me, but I promise to try
To stop this mood swing
I swear
Everything will be alright
YOU ARE READING
The Aggravated Mind
PoetryEmbracing a new pattern or rhythm of life. Taking on new ways of thinking and washing away the old. A sweet love of verse and song. My heart will go on. *Author's note* Note will be random insight to the poems of this book.
