As I step off the ladder…

I find myself sinking into the ground

The mud encases my feet and

covers my ankles.

It is time to slow down

It is time for the low swing

in my bipolar mood

And while it doesn’t engulf me

like it used to

it is difficult to get used to the mud

even though it used to be quicksand

that would swallow me whole

begging for my death

I got used to it

But the mud

is hard for me to  understand

cold

hard

gritty

I’m expected to keep going

I don’t know how

Just enough to knock the wind out of me

But not enough to kill me

What does that mean?

 

 

 

 

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