I’m a Bipolar Baptist. Within an intimate distance there rests a drawer full of sharp kitchen knives, scissors, and treacherous pampered chef wares. At this instance, I gargle alcoholic mouthwash and juggle chainsaws for recreation.
I possess a reckless cache of overdue library books. I am not G-rated nor a mundane Disney character. On occasion, I spend hundreds of dollars on leggings that I wear as pants. *gasp. Petulant, and scarlet lipstick rests upon my lips.
Thank you for Medication Monday.
Thank you for Sedation Saturday.
Thank you for Therapy Thursday.
I shockingly feast solely upon juicy oranges and pineapples for lunch. Lo, how scandalous! For I may perish of malnutrition! O you mustn’t draw near this lunatic….
I dump legions of cereal down the toilet and erratically vacuum stone floors. I fashion not my kid’s hair into ponytails alway. * For they loathe the dismal ponytail. Real psychotic fodder I must proclaim!
At sundry times I write upon public bathroom walls. I take Taco Tuesdays and Manic Mondays. May I have more Lithium please? Everyday, I fathom a novel and exquisite way to creep people out. Stand aside folks, for I am o.k with that. Someday the good Lord will heal me and I will walk upon solid ground.