They say that the manic people
are most passionate

I am most passionate about
our love, your hands, thoughts, and words.

Our love, your hands, thoughts, and words make me
m a n i c.

and then...

PANIC.
The breath is stolen away by the demons
who stick their pitchforks into my brain
repeatedly, allowing my past to ooze out
and spread like wild fire.

PANIC.
The tears that try to put out the fire but in return
send shivers up my spine. The body turns cold as if it is
d e a d.

PANIC.
Is the worry of the ashes left behind by the fire.
Who is going to clean this up so I can breath again...

or will the flame begin again before we can clean up this mess.

But slowly the individual cells begin to heal
and when combined with chemicals that are released
clean up the left over ashes even faster.

We need one day to talk
and one day to rest
and one day to clean up the mess

and after it all
we'll move along and i'll forget those chemicals are in my brain
and when you look into my eyes....

I hope you'll see me.
and not the panic in me.