Hypomania. Depression. I have you both to thank one or both for the line white traceries raised and silent one for the memory of a woman with tired eyes and a toy in her hand one for both for the friendship whose back I, we broke and whose pieces I am still picking up even now which perhaps I may never be able to glue back together. Hypomania I have you to thank I think for the tattoo running down my spine for the words running through my mind. Depression I call you out for the liquid I spilt iron thick across my hands and down my cheeks. Hypomania I call you out and say I miss you don’t want to live without you can seem to feel without the power you gave me a children’s book reminds me of the feeling that you gifted Felix Felicis a child’s novel but the feeling the same as if I could conquer the world and my wayward self no longer in need of conquering was strong and capable I could move mountains not literally of course if I wanted to if I needed to. Hypomania, meet depression meet obsession. Say goodnight and say hello to I’m sorry and goodbye to the already gone. The mountain stands as it always did solid rock and too heavy too move and me too tired to climb it.