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Sep 2014
Energy fizzing in her veins
The kind that doesn't come from caffeine
Or too much sugar
But too much of something else.
Twitching in her fingertips
Making her feet tap rhythms to unheard songs
Her mind whizzing
From string theory
To pasta sauce
And back again.
When she speaks
Her lips can't move fast enough to keep up with her racing thoughts
No coherent, linear sentences are spewed
But nonsensical ramblings that make your heart flutter.

Now she's dosed up
Turned down
A dimmer, more "stable" version of herself.
It's better for her.
Her feet don't tap, her thoughts don't scramble
Everything she says makes perfect sense
And it's nice
And you love her
But somedays you miss the way her mind would race
And your heart would flutter.
Written by
Aisling  Ireland
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