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Bipolar

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Tell me a lie, so sweet on your lips, that makes me believe the joy of your words.
Keep out the dark side that I know exists, where the truth is known; hence hated.
Tell me of wonders, dripping like honey as you speak; tasteful but incomplete.
Keep the hot spice of hidden knowledge from spoiling the feast, but put it in a bowl for later.
Crown me with these wonders, shiny and new, rare and sought after by many.
But beware, for it is too easy to fall into dept with jewels and unconsciously lose everything.
And as I fall deeper for you, I get lost, with only you to guide me to the passage of your heart.
But you may just let my spirit drop to the bottom and die in your darkness with no way to escape.
You are my light, glowing always and portraying everything into the glimmer of your happiness.
The other part of you is demanding and hollow, reserved for your black stares and crude words.
Solid and unmoving you tend to stand up and protect me from evil outside forces.
Then again you stand there unceasingly creating broken hearts and damaging spirits of those around you.
You are my wind, cool and soothing, blowing away my troubles and tempting me to relax in your touch.
Suddenly you change into a tornado, full of fury and destruction of everything in your path, great and small.



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