Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: April Mae M. Berza

Bipolar

A psychologist asked me
my dream last
night.

I never told her about you,
that you colonized
my subconscious,
paralyzing me until
I wake up.

I surrender
to the idiopathic pain
when I realize
you are just a dream.

Don’t you know
we are poles apart
I’m on the other end
fulfilled and contented
that we exist,
we exist.

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