High highs,
and low lows.
I wouldn't have it any other way,
I dare say, I have never felt more alive.
Casual Thursday identity crises that are anything but casual,
a relentless battle with self.
Regardless, it's time to saddle up.
Get out of your car,
relinquish the cigarette smoke and anguish,
we've all got **** to do,
and so we abide.
I am biding my time to unbind my euphoria.
A moment so clear and distinct,
where it's 2 am, the coffee house is closing,
and we've still so much to say.
I am well on my way,
despite the massive lack of sleep,
coffee and cigarettes to eat,
and it's better than a five course meal.
Optimism and bliss, for an instant,
that feels perhaps, in perpetuity.
Intermittence of all that was ever felt,
in greater doses,
to feed an addiction
of high highs,
and low lows.