(On life with an adult child who is plagued with bipolar type 1).
worms in your head demons
bore holes in your soul blind you
to dangers that trip you
hurl you into the gutter
of drunkenness
mania overcomes you
expansive gestures slice into
the air your voice ascends to
a shout strident sounds crowd the air
& you think you can
walk through the wall
sleep settles in a sunset
into the arms of Morpheus
you moan work your legs against
the sheets & dream
night terrors rage you leap
from the bed a primal scream
in your throat spills over
trembling lips fills the air
with static & fear
pills & two hours see
you in bed sedated calm
breaths quiet a soft snore
the only sound from your room
© 2013 cj Schlottman
