The goal is to heal.

People are stupid or amazing or they’re both.

An abstract poem about how it feels in the moments between a manic phase and a depressed phase, through the eyes of a person living with bipolar disorder.

When a wound gets salt poured into it, it stings. But what happens if you think of something good. Would the stinging go away then?

Urban child deaths.

Poetry Blade.

Please read and leave comments. thank you.

Poet try.

Poet try.

Poet try.