an addiction with this piece of paper
my mind toiling as ink fly like feathers
a lost attraction to the time etched so thin
as words began to bleed from wells deep within

why is it that I cannot go to sleep
as phrases of day's wight whispers in my brain
I possibly cannot shut the voices out too steep
as eyes see transfixed to the matrix of veins

inky black scrawls, trailing the sheet  
filled with idiocy, catastrophe pumped in trains
an anarchy implemented like bipolar sleet
as I cannot possibly decide which terrain to eat

so many possibilities edged on pointed ends
stick me with the blunted ends
so I won't bleed so much
as words fly shapeless as such

I am an addict to lunacy of words
cannot possibly retain all my thoughts
in one such  designated, captivated skull
a contemplative headcase, basket case
caskets crazy and full

I will never be able to put down this pen