In the Shadows of My Eyelids

As I blink

Within the shadows of my eyelids
Lurk ferocious dragons,
Flame spewing, putrid smelling demons.

And I blink.

God's sky is baby blue;
The wind blows my hair
Into my eyes
Fluffy puffy clouds of misty white;
A tear dampens down my cheek,
Rearranging a blur of
Monet's perspective.

I breathe with purpose
As other sentients.
Yet my right
Is your left
When we mirror each other.

How could we possibly
Have the same perspective,
Much less understanding?

The dragon's bellicose Carnage
Lays wasted,
His own feet today.
Don't plan any long walks.

These are the questions of the dragon
Who asks, :If not myself,
Who would you have me be for your enjoyment today?" .
This was all less serious before the dragon burst forth
In a new scene of the play.

Damn refrigerator!

I sigh,
Groping for some comprehension
Of why my word doesn't count in my world..

Perhaps had I been more than a wall flower,
The sparkle and whip of the dragon's scaled tail
Would have been less of a shock.

You might as well have well told a blind man to LEARN to see,
when you told me to learn to not be bipolar.
He will never realize his oxymoronic truth.


Learn how not to be diabetic.
Learn to have green eyes.

About bipolar disorder,
They have so much to know,
Those who desire knowledge,
Have compassion,
Seek truth and understanding.

Nevertheless, he draws forth another dragon,
As if life were a game of fetch,
And I'm the bitch in heat.
But those dragons have passed,
And new ones lurk,
Within the shadows of my eyelids
As I dare dream
Of reckless imagination.