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Here I sit,

An empty vessel,

Drained,

Like sodden dregs of coffee,

Moulded into

Human form.

Narcoleptic eyes,

In vacuous, dead expression,

Seeing,

Yet in monochrome,

A flat, insipid

Tableau of abjection.

Waiting for

A catalyst,

Sweet impetus,

To animate

This stagnant soul,

To live, again.

© Sarah Drury 2017

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I have manic depression or bipolar disorder. This means that my emotions and moods swing violently between depression and mania. Some days I wake up full of the joys of spring and other days its a real effort to get out of bed. This was a bad day…

This morn the sun forgot to rise,
A veiled, grey, nightmare moment,
web of ‘no I cannot do this day’ once more,
Beneath plump duvets of obscurity.

This morn the clock just laughed
A hollow, crazy cackle,
Random scattered moments painted on
A timeless time machine.

This morn Her mind just broke
Innumerable insane fragments,
Shattered, broken remnants, looming,
Grasping at insanity.

Hail! Oh hallowed Saviour
Of society
This crazy epidemic of
Insanity,
Life between the veils
What’s real, what’s fantasy?
Clutching, clawing, grasping
At reality.
Go chill, take a pill, the sane mill,
Travesty,
It’s uncool, madness, such an insane
Malady.
Yet grounding, rooting, back to body
Gravity,
Miracles of modern medics
Clarity.
So take it, just a pill, for total
Equanimity.

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