Bipolarsunshine – Medium

Bipolarsunshine

A One-Way Ticket to Where All the Demons Go By Bipolar Sunshine

I had a one-way ticket to a place where all the demons go.Not metaphorically. Not figuratively. I boarded that train in silence, with a…

Jul 28

A One-Way Ticket to Where All the Demons Go
By Bipolar Sunshine

Jul 28

The Artisans of Ache: Let Them Sit With Their Ruins by bipolar sunshine

You must understand this. NO, feel it in the marrow of your knowing, not every rupture is a confession, not every trembling voice speaks…

Jul 27

The Artisans of Ache: Let Them Sit With Their Ruins
by bipolar sunshine

Jul 27

Some Only See the Devil When You Stop Playing Their God

By Bipolar Sunshine

Jul 22

Some Only See the Devil When You Stop Playing Their God

Jul 22

The Fire That Speaks

Do you truly seek justice, or just want the chaos to speak your name?

Jul 21

The Fire That Speaks

Jul 21

The Postman of the 77,000 Tapes By Bipolar Sunshine*

For 17 years, the postman walked the same crooked path to the same forgotten office on the edge of town, just past the fields where the…

Jul 16

The Postman of the 77,000 Tapes
By Bipolar Sunshine*

Jul 16

A Soul Screaming in the Graveyard by Bipolar Sunshine

In the deep hours, when the sky is stitched shut and the wind forgets its way home, something cries out in the silence.

Jul 14

A Soul Screaming in the Graveyard
by Bipolar Sunshine

Jul 14

Sugarcane With No Water, Rising When They Hope You Fall

By Bipolar Sunshine

Jul 12

Sugarcane With No Water, Rising When They Hope You Fall

Jul 12

“The Man Who Spoke to Heaven But Couldn’t Hear His Own Family”

How a life of visions, fasting, and prophecy turned into a tragedy at home

Jul 5

“The Man Who Spoke to Heaven But Couldn’t Hear His Own Family”

Jul 5

You Were Never Meant to Echo” By Bipolar Sunshine

There is a sickness in this world.

Jul 5

You Were Never Meant to Echo”
By Bipolar Sunshine

Jul 5

The Labyrinth of the Drowned”

When the boy closed his eyes, sleep did not cradle him.

Jul 3

The Labyrinth of the Drowned”

Jul 3

Bipolarsunshine

Bipolarsunshine

I do not write—I reveal. Prophetic relics veiled as verse. Occult echoes of what came before light. These are not poems. These are warnings.

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