Bipolarity

Another day of dashed hopes, pretension and joyless smiles. My face sweats behind the mask, my soul dies behind my face. Maybe the grim rictus presented by my bones beneath all that flesh is all there is to all there is.

But tomorrow I shall see bright ochre butterflies flittering in wild abandon, weaving patterns in the morning wind. Patterns that create hurricanes. Hurricanes that stir my soul.

Advertisements

One thought on “Bipolarity

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s