Paradox

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  • Publiceret: 11 apr. 2020
  • Opdateret: 14 apr. 2020
  • Status: Igang
Read how it feels to live with bipolar disorder, have friendships torn from your heart and maybe see the light of a new romance through the art work of my own poetry....

Author's note

ANTHOLOGY
CHAPTER 1 - VITAL INTRODUCTION ( DONT SKIP)
CHAPTERS 2-9 (POETRY)
CHAPTER 10 ( UNSEEN AND UNFINISHED NARRATIVE)

Although this is an anthology, for the best reading experience it is advised to read all chapters in chronological order
Shabzy :)
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1. Paradox {The 2020 Anthology}


THE 2020 ANTHOLOGY :) 

CHAPTERS 2-9 (POETRY)

CHAPTER 10 ( UNSEEN AND UNFINISHED NARRATIVE)

                                                                            **************


Ignore the red blob at the top of the page. Its jam- not blood, I promise. My fingers are sticky on this pen as I scribble down these words on what would have been a 'jam free' page if I wasn't snacking on home made jam sandwiches at 3am on a Saturday night. It's strawberry flavour. Yuck. I don't even like jam, but there is no better way to open this up, I guess, and if I'm honest with you- I'm always hungry. In the shadows of this shed, it looks like my fingers have been digging themselves into a bloody corpse of a freshly butchered body. But I promise you it's not blood, in fact I'll prove it to you and lick my fingers. Ew. That was gross. You owe me. The moonlight that pours through the garden shed's window provides only enough light for me to see the wooden desk, everything on it (including this paper) , and the neighbour's cat who has perched herself right next to my left foot. It's cold though, and mum would kill me if she knew I was up in the middle of the night, and technically not in the house either. You owe me twice now. In the darkness, the wind plays her melodious tune of 'Winter's night' on her familiar flute loudly, and the cat decides to yowl in rhythm. Anyone who is anyone would find this to be the most outrageous vocal performance of all time, but my insanity is pretty much used to this infamous tune that my ears have adapted to after being exposed to it every night for sixteen weeks and 3 days. It's fun really. I've written a ton of poetry and narratives since it's happened. Since that day. In fact, I've got eight pieces of short poems right here for you. You can tick off one thing that you owe me if you read them and tell me what you think. It won't take long, I promise, and besides I've never really gotten to share these  with anyone.... 

 

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