garbled

lightning crashes, a new mother cries
her placenta falls to the floor
the angel opens her eyes
the confusion sets in
before the doctor can even close the door

lightning crashes, an old mother dies
her intentions fall to the floor
the angel closes her eyes
the confusion that was hers
belongs now, to the baby down the hall

oh now feel it comin' back again
like a rollin' thunder chasing the wind
forces pullin' from the center of the earth again
I can feel it.

lightning crashes, a new mother cries
this moment she's been waiting for
the angel opens her eyes
pale blue colored iris,
presents the circle
and puts the glory out to hide, hide

and this is how it feels with bipolar disorder sometimes, an alternate or sometimes simultaneous awareness of debilitating confusion and fierce clarity, both joined by unrelenting fear locking horns with impossible hope. don't be surprised if that makes no sense. that'd actually be a fairly accurate reaction. today is a day for no decisions, for robotic existence, rote errands, and pre-planned escape from pressure. otherwise, it all falls apart, and the mental sea becomes frighteningly destructive. it's only appropriate that i fear drowning above all things.