Gaelic moon
mirror image
reflected
in
the
eyes of the raven

as the winds
gently touch the flowers,
they whisper,
the songs, the melody
the beautiful notes of those forgotten,
inside of the garden
the music plays,
inside of the garden
the raven dances
into the night
into the darkness

shadows cover the garden,
melodies once heard
only leave a feint echo
of that now
what is left
once from the great dance
alone, the Raven gazes upon
the sadness of the garden

reflected by the moonlight
that which
the naked eye cant see
the human hand cant touch
a feel, emotion
beyond the comprehensiveness
of the mind
reaching out,
the raven opens its wings
taking flight
into the great night

once a keeper of the garden
a holder of the secrets
the moon
witnessed the melding
of a great being
with that, which now
is
only a shadow
of its former self.

A dark star awake
The coal eye of my heavens
A pitch black morning

Stories and poems
Love and shared coffees
Bus rides and jokes
I saw the sun glimmering
The corners crept in
The room became smaller
Breathing got harder and voices became more
My body became a canvas of my own doing
The blood became more and the smile slipped away in the dark
I became lost in a world of Bipolar Depression
With a new mixture of pills of various variety of color
The line between reality and fantasy became blury
Until a line was no more
I found comfort in creating art over my arms hidden by clothes
My days became a mixture of pills and emotional outbursts
It was like falling asleep, slowly at first and then all together
I was destroyed
I was distorted
I was redefined by darkness of late night cries
I was no more
I became a silent void
I became nothing
I became defined by my illness
I became my worst fear
I am a beautiful void
I am
I am
I am lost and captured in a glass jar labeled December Bipolar
I am no more