The Gate

I myself might have caved were it not for the gross realism that surrounded me. It was a pandemic, all this honesty. It made me sick before I fell in love.

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The Gate
While setting traps for unsuspecting do-gooders
I came across an early
Mother’s Day gift,
Where the actions of one girl with dark hair changed fate.
The heavens opened and would you believe the sky rained a gorgeous electric water that sizzled as it hit the ground…
This sounds impossible and yet you might wonder if?
I would like to remind the denizens of culture that they may find themselves beneath options weighed precisely in time with their acceptance of all things familiar…what can be compared to knowing a great fuck?
I myself might have caved were it not for the gross realism that surrounded me. It was a pandemic, all this honesty. It made me sick before I fell in love.
Ha-ha I would like to say, except I can’t ever laugh at anyone without the maudlin afterthoughts— these of course being a necessity.
I am hiding underneath misrepresentation. I’m using the sky for a blanket, which does not console, not nearly. Oh, but there’s a trap set for you too, marauder! Settle in for captions and bite-sized apologies because by the time the beatings start the whips will have been long gone.
That is when you realize you’ll have to tell at least one lie to get past
The Gate.
Kimkoa 2018

Author: bravelybipolargirl

I’m a writer and stay-home mother of three. I live with my husband, mother and 4 1/2 year old daughter in Wasilla, Alaska. My two teenage sons 14 and 16 spend summers and holidays with us. I am diagnosed bipolar 1 with psychotic features and my mission is to eradicate the stigma of mental illness in our society.

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