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.