There is no huge brain inside of my dome, it was replaced with a slow metronome. It doesn't stop moving, just ticking and talking at night I'm out stalking the streets as my mood swings and sways to the beat in my head. Mania? Yeah, the opposite of dead but in depression I'm just hanging to life by a thread. Swinging back and forth with significant force like a ballpeen hammer, hard enough to **** a horse. Like a blunt force trauma bringing nothing but drama, so I tire of the fire and I suffer but whatever but the flames be growin' higher and it's an oil fire so don't be throwing water or it'll just get hotter and roar louder so dowse me with the baking powder, better yet, a better powder, ya got good coke? Can I get some of that snow chucked into my head sometimes the numbness is better than dead. To quote the great Tom Waits "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy." I'd say I agree. Though at the end of the day it's not up to me.

When dawn descends into dusk
I am caught in moonlight clutches
claws digging deep into ever
so suggestible flesh —
like the werewolves I see
while sitting on my porch
basking in the days
last puffs of smoke.

I similarly am going up in
plumes of carcinogenic
madness, brain ravaged with
thoughts of aliens
coming to steal me away —
thieves in the night.

Such is this twisted tango danced,
with the familiarity of lovers
interwoven in my brain —
tarnished neurons,
friendly fire dopamine,
spilling over into visions —
but not the kinds of sugar plums.
no, this fruit is rotten;
bearing gnashing teeth,
breathing fire.

But this phoenix will rise from ash
from the remains of deluded thought
of broken tongue words
misplaced and slithering
figures in peripheral vision
with their monochromatic hue
I will be rainbow reborn,
the full spectrum anew, because
every storm will pass —
and I
will not
be beaten.

manic

the voices, in my head, they scream, and scream, and yell, and oh god, i cant drown them out, those voices, and the **** they tell me, like im some *******

maniac

the voices, ******* voices, all the voices shouting at me, the overlapping yelling, and screaming, and panic, and oh, god the voices, ****, they tell me to just ******* jump already, voices tell me im

manic

im manic, manic is me, im crazy as crazy can be, the voices remind me how delirious i must be, oh god the voices call me

manic

the voices are my

mania

i am the inner manic voice, i am the voices, oh god its me, its me, its me, im manic, the voices are me, and i cant drown them out, oh ****

manic

manic

the voices, i mean i tell me death is the cure, the antidote, the way out, but oh god, the voices remind me that im

manic

the voices, i cant make them stop, the voices yell, makes me spiral, spiral into oblivion, oblivion makes me, the voices make me

manic

manic

******* manic

******* manic

the mania that drives the voices

the voices that drive the mania

the voices that drive me to the end

the end of mania

the end of me