When bipolar I sometimes feel like God,
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like Superman or the earth’s savior;
the rush from feeling like a demi-god
makes me believe I am a conqueror,
like another Alexander the Great.
Then I’m flung to the black chasms of Hell
when my wild moods now suddenly abate
(and rapidly cycle) that I cannot tell
the bottomless, infinite low’s apart
from the ecstatic, Olympian high’s.
These shifts in mood, subtle at first, outsmart
me as my disquiet intensifies.
Most of my life is spent between these two
poles of the spectrum—if you only knew!
"To have the soul of a poet is to feel with the mind, and to think with the heart."