Clarity. We don’t see it often. After four glasses of wine I am seeing clearly. Thank god its not whiskey this time or I wouldn’t be able to write. Too much in my head. It hurts. An alcoholic bipolar mess. Dizzy. Clarity.
You don’t love me. I am lost. Without your love. Waiting. For that other shoe to drop. All consuming, unrelentless, impossible, inconvenient, cant live without you forever love. Oh my god, where are you? I am fucked. Take me. From this life. Its ongoing. The universe. So much to see. Where are you? I am looking for you but I can’t find you. I am manic. I am crazy.
Crazy. Such a harsh word. They label us that you know. The Bipolar ones. Oh she’s texting me too much, she’s bipolar. She is obsessed, she is bipolar. Why do people fuckin’ throw that word around so much. Can’t they see it hurts us?
Love. We want it. We crave it. Give it to us. All of us want it. I am heartbroken. I am in love. So much emotion. Pouring out of me now. Where are you? Does this make sense. The dagger. I feel you. Your silky blade against my chest. Plunge in me. Make it stop. Fast. Slow now. In me. Deep. My blood. You lovely demon. Bipolar. Take me over. Let me fly. Bring me back to my mania. I want to feel it. All consuming. Love me. Just love me.