Manic

In the throes of my sleep and my labor

Wonder not why but how shall I ever

Dance to a different melody

Whence one did just fine not too long ago

It’s well bitter now even on days like today

Days that are meant to be celebrated

In a grand splendor of a joyous occasion

Like when one wins a sporting event

I always wanted to practice fencing

Just so I could say touché

But now it tickles my fancy

To say it when it’s not meant to be said

My life feels like a purgatory

I feel like im in a state of suspense

I trust that if I ever have my fate decided

That at least it’s in the best interests of my friends

Of which I have none

Ha ha touché

Perhaps a toast to my only comrades then

To letters and words!

My little soldiers that carry my thoughts

Through the trenches and chambers

Of banal existence

Oh how I wish when I die

To slumber deep and smiling

Even wasted on the capslock

MANIC AND DEPRESSED

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