Trapped in my mind, lost in confusion, conflicted by chaos, denoted by the mental crisis.
I stand in fear, but not willing to be taken down.
I express the most, and keep the rest hidden, locked away.
I know what I know, the knowledge is my strength and my weakness.
Testing my own abilities on a blank page where thoughts manifest and co-create.
I am not you, neither I am really me.
I am not wise, merely experienced and thirsty to know more.

I am defeated by desire.
The desire to love.
I am high strung and nervous in the rummaging crowds of senseless energies draining my sense of being.
Informative, yet discreet.
Do I need not say more?
Speak but don't talk.
Then what is point of verbal expression if they constantly silent you.
For I only know what my mind absorbs.
Curiosity and quick intellect.
Not an academic, don't need to be.
My mind is my weapon, my greatest strength.
For it only requires knowledge.

They say, I have a beautiful mind.
I say, I explain the information I find.
Excrete and discrete.
The mental messenger of a deranged intellect and a spiritual soul.
Do I need not to say more.

Express yourself, it is the only way.
The unstable mind is the one that knows the most, and the least, all at the same time.
How can you be willing if you cannot live in open-minded intelligence.
My mind is my gift.
I love it, but sometimes I hate it.
It creates what people call interesting and smart.
It creates my life, and performing art.
I live in despair, learning to control and tame, the monkey brain.