[283] Pendulum of Thoughts

I know my illness better
than I know myself
It’s a cold morning breeze
on the last day of summer
There is no knock before it enters
or any calm before the storm
It makes me taste an ecstasy
that comes with an understanding
that there is a ceiling to every summit
and no one talks about the descent down below

It’s the familiar loneliness
and the increasing weight of your bones
The loss of the soul in your eyes
that you finally worked to find on your own
It predicts you better than the
unpredictability of your neurons
It is a provider of hope
when you feel you’ve lost all
It’s pulling you apart
so you can be together again
to find yourself once more

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