Five years of a shameless comic strip of erratic episodes
With low tide emotions warping my psyche, I wrote
The scoop on daily bipolar by a manual press, these heavy hands leave me etched out bold
I write, to unfold
Holding splitter boned sadness in my head left me bleeding ink into images, the side doodles bring words my words to life
A chronic puppeteer to a poetic soul, I pull the strings of me with dedication
I'm one hell of a stand up act
I write for meditation
I write as medication
Proud to be born a writing stock, I breeze past writers block
Striving forward through pen strokes, I'm breathing
Pacing easy as I stitched myself back together by sentences
Only my paper mate can help me exfoliate the hurt
-JM
