Speaking to Bipolar

 Bipolar, you inspire me to revel in your chemical embrace. 

But I refuse the nuptials you seek; 

I cannot afford the luxury of living under your thumb. 

By your own hand, you perched me on a pedestal only to shame me back into the dirt.

Fool me once, my smiling, sinister, fair-weather friend. 

I’ve had enough of the drama, the years of bait-and-switch. 

Fool me twice, the shame is mine— just a penny waiting for change.

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