The kids are going to do
What they want to do
They may have just ruined their lives
On an impulse decision
Whose to say what works ?
You find somebody you like
And you roll the dice
That's all anybody can do

Is a ‘reaction’
an initial impulse to act
after an experience?
Do reactions
get us into trouble
when we act out the impulse
without first self-introspecting,
becoming aware of emotions and thoughts,
self-evaluating emotions and thoughts,
and self-correcting emotions and thoughts?
For example:

A toddler cries
then her mother slaps her hard
then regrets the slap
when her toddler cries more miserably.

A youth insults a man at a bar
then the man punches the youth hard
knocking him to the floor unconscious
struggling to breathe,
then the man regrets the punch
and regrets getting arrested even more.

We are an atom built within the galaxy
Wander and mingle for the sake of acceptance only
Sacrificing the only thing we own to get to the zero gravity
Hence, is it all really worthy?

Just a little chaos
I noticed I'm looking for a bit of fun
and oh so many will run
they don't get you
Although in a way I do

The mind is a storm
of feelings and words
I'm a captain braving the storm
they told me it's not worth it

And maybe it isn't
but I just want a bit of fun

My impulses guide me again and again
Light in clear path yet I stray toward sin
A hand grabs my shoulder to pull me back in
A familiar face, room, and warmth from within

Sweet fragrance of the void of which I cling
As I jump I start to hear the angels sing
Their singing growing to a shrieking sting
Oh god how I wish I still had my wings

Impulsivity, I am hopelessly in love with you.

Buy the shoes.
Ditch school.

Kiss her.

Drive 30 minutes
for french fries

Kiss him.

Buy 18 pet snails.
Eat the octopus tacos.

In acting class they told me
to follow my impulses.
At home they told me not to.

A blessing and a curse
might land me in a hearse
But I’m living

Today I wrote a letter to someone I love and I’m going to send it

Tomorrow I might stay home and cook pasta,
or maybe I’ll drive to Portland.
Pack only a few T-shirts and my terrifying
overabundance of freedom

Are you proud?

I’ve been told not to be so impulsive.
To think more rationally.
To weigh the consequences.
“You’ll regret it!”

But the greatest regret I’ve ever felt
is having not done anything
about something that is my everything.

I know I’m not an idiot.

I’ve told myself this for years and I’ll stick to it,
but there will never be a day
when my mind defeats my gut.
Sometimes it means I’m

irresponsible.
Unpredictable.
Messy.
Slutty.

“Who are you anyway?”

I have a secret
-I don’t know who I am

And if I’m lucky, I never will.

You, my impulsivity, are to blame and to thank for that.

fuel desperation,
and so are valuable
assets in the game
of spinning chambers.

one ***** is all it takes.

you might not believe
a person still wading
through adolescence
could harbor such
malevolent intent.

one slight is all it takes.

age is barely even
a consideration when
haunted by the desire
for revenge or need
of self-preservation.

one fragile moment is all it takes.

fewer years simply
equate to shallower
perspective, exacerbating
youthful impulsivity.

one bullet is all it takes.

What harm could it do?
To play around one's breathe
To grip something tightly
An innocent gesture

Passion so involved
It's just a spur of emotions
A moment of breathlessness
What's wrong with cutting off some air?
People are poisonous anyways
***** and sick
You're just polishing
Taking them somewhere brighter for a moment
No?

Can you feel their veins
Can you feel their pulse
Hear them cough,
Is it really that bad?
Tighter and tighter till the knot is tied
Feel air struggle in their throat

Something might sizzle inside you
Now dont be alarmed
The adrenalin of life flowing under your palms can be overwhelming.
It's only normal
To feel excitement
At their strained
Heavy
Breathing

Isnt it almost like a melody
The raspy struggles?
Notice the resistence of the gasping
Clench your fingers
Weigh them down
Feel the life leave their lips
And the pressure leave their lungs
Let them choke

The feeling of not knowing what you’re writing
Because all of your feelings simply pour out the words