Bipolar Poetry

Prescriptions and Dread by Stephen J. Golds



These pills, they don’t work. 

They kill me, resurrect me into 

a walking fragment of memory

half remembered on 

a Sunday Morning.


They ask if I’m taking my meds? 

I seem tense, they worry.

I want to say that 

being tense 

is better than 

being past tense. 




The gut ache that doesn’t ease, 

the dishes unwashed in the sink,

the laundry murder 

shapes on the floor. 

Windows left open for the rain. 

The fever in the night,

all too black & too bright. 

The telephone unrung.

The bills sealed by the front door. 

Waiting on tomorrow 

like it’s the goddamned

firing squad.


Stephen J. Golds was born in London, U.K, but has lived in Japan for most of his adult life. He enjoys spending time with his daughters, reading books, traveling, boxing and listening to old Soul LPs. His novel Say Goodbye When I’m Gone will be released by Red Dog Press in October 2020 and another novel Glamour Girl Gone will be released by Close to The Bone Press January 2021

Bipolar Poetry

spiraling by Sarah Huerta

i spin my disorder into words, ever present in everything i produce, in every plant i rehome and inevitably kill, in every relationship ended because my extremes were too extreme, every burnt out lightbulb in my small apartment, every acquaintance scared of my highs and every sibling scared of my lows, every picture i paint with too-vibrant colors, haphazard brushstrokes ending up on walls. i used to write that dating while bipolar is like throwing a brick through a window tirelessly over and over i used to write that being bipolar is a life sentence i used to write everyday i write everyday with my disorder.

it never leaves, never ceases to hunger, never leaves never leaves me us it never will.

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Sarah G. Huerta is a Chicana poet from Dallas. They are pursuing their MFA at Texas State University and they currently live in Texas with their cat, Lorca.