MANIAC DEPRESSION
Sexed curtains humping
Clock pointers banging
Ceiling fan chirping
My heart drumming;
My shadow a ghastly ghoul
Glass clinks, tips over; a dreaded drool
I go naked, my bells dangling
Between my thighs, its shriek deafening
Its weights vein-splitting
Its sight blinding
Hell and I in stern combat
I fry in my own fat
In just one bitter taste
Love turns to hate
My socket squeezing my eyes
My lips cold ice
My kiss one of death
Gone in one last breath
My world swirls, my bliss abridge
I cut, blood gushes, I fall and relish
My bumpy life; a lumpy porridge.
Michael Thompson
PS_ This piece is by no means a panacea for maniac depression. Just seeks to creatively personify certain into haunting concepts, a feeling which usually overwhelms people suffering from maniac depression.
By Michael Thompson
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