I'm just scribbling lines now
Something to occupy my mind
The thoughts that are fowl
They somehow disappear
And there's things I find
When I'm in there

nine or ten pills a day
make the best part go away
how does one live a life so dull
when it once used to be full
UPS and downs
broken faces, empty bottles
bed ridden weeks
that were filled with no motivation
but I wish I could keep
some parts of me

I'm driving places I've never been
And I'm not talking of sins
I'm talking the chemicals in my brain
The ones that make me feel sane

Ferris wheels
Round and round
Rock away
The loud sounds
At the top
Where I sit
It all seems so calm
Nothing could matter a bit

I'm angry
I'm mad
I'm going to rant
But at the same time I don't want to write
I'm tired
And my hand takes up too much space
Everything about me takes up too much space
I'm suffocating the people in my life
I'm a balloon that's about to pop
And they need to cut the string

I'm sad now

its that special time between
the winter and autumn
when its sometimes snowing
and there’s no sunshine
to come leaking through
the clouds are thick at this time

humorously ludicrous.

the lunar rock flickering
& all that
co$mic glitter
pulsating
almost saying
I should return to the
wretched place
whence I came.

phoning home.

captivated
the moon's only reflecting
radiation from the sun
& some of those ancients
thought that ball of gaseous hell
was god himself.

I am now these clouds
of heaven chemicals &
other toxic emissions &
I am in awe of all of this.

there was an epic in the sky
& unfortunately I am limitied by
a lack of understanding of the
technical jargon.
the sad fact is to me
real ideology is not possible
& nothing but impractical knowledge.

.... and I don't follow.

I'm afraid

I don't follow

I want to be a writer, an author, a name to be remembered when it comes to the art of literature. I want my work to make people think, to matter, to maybe make this world better, even just a little.

I want to be a mother. I don't expect to be perfect, no one is, and god knows I cannot be perfect, with my ramblings and sleeplessness and all. But I know how to love and to care and to put others before me. Granted, I may forget a few punctuation marks when I'm hyper but I can at least be a wonder to my children.

I want to be in love. I mean, I am. I mean, married. I mean, forever. I love the one I'm with so much and I wish to spend every day with him, but that's not an option yet. We have to grow though being ******* college students and deal with our ******* selves and hopefully come out in the end, utterly victorious. I would love to be victorious with him.

I want to never leave wonderland. I want it to grow kinder, more manageable, but I could not understand or fair well in a world without it. Even now my fingers flicker around the keyboard, just taunting me into the thoughts racing and hand thoughts thoughts hands ****. The madness is creeping and my fingers are flying but I can manage it, and I wouldn't be me without it so I must accept it. It is part of who I am, right?

I want so many things, yet I'm too young to have them. i have to suffer through more years of editing, of waiting, of being careful before I can attain my dreams. Dreams I want now, dreams I want to scream up into the heavens so I can have them right this second and hold my babies close and read them a story of wonderland while my love smiles at us from the doorway.

I feel this is truly who I am, and I can't be. Not yet, and I hate it.

Guess for now the best I can get is the manic midnight dreaming.