Bipolar in July

Low times
In your low nest
With your plaid pants
And your cell phone next to your breast
And dirty clothes in a pile on the floor
Tea cup with tea ring sloshed at the bottom and dry
Guilt
All the guilty feelings of failure
As a person and a mother
And the blue walls
Sparse
Because you don't have the money to put something on them
It's a low time.
And it's hot
So you can't even snuggle in a sweater.