to the pieces that are afraid

i remember screaming
overwhelmed by how incredible
i encountered life;

tears welling because my body couldn’t contain
all the beauty my eyes were taking in.

slap-stuck diagnosis, bipolar
because i range the full spectrum:
soaring —

sinking —
& getting stuck.

asked the other day
would i give it up?
would i change my world if i had the chance?
don’t need to think of my answer, i know it,
no,
because maybe i’m not bipolar, because bipolar is just a word
& i’m just me.