The heat of day drags on,
a sweltering unbecoming heart ache
that leaves my lungs breathless.
Such a dry, timid existence
That devours the moisture in the air.
It scrounges up every drop of vivacity
And signs my obituary prematurely
in permanent black ink.
The eulogy proclaims its love.
My sepulchre sings to the sun
And I lay under the apple tree
To rest there for eternity.
YOU ARE READING
The Neo-Bipolar
PuisiIm actually terrified to share this stuff with you all. I struggle with a lot of demons and really just need the support and superficial attention that I lack. This is continued poetry from bipolar poems, just a new me, some newer thoughts, feelings...
