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Dream Fisher Aug 23
Too Much Caffeine in the Poetry

My brain feels spun,
The other kids are having fun.
I'm not sure what direction I'm on.
Should I be playing, slaying, laying down
I don't let the ground hold me up.
I sip apple juice from a Lego cup
Then let my thoughts erupt.
Blow off my mind, it's dusty
But I'll be a quick spitter like Rusty
The pinch hitter who lost the game
Still dancing all the same.
Oh and you just lost the game.

I'm sorry, I'm not sorry.
The engines are not starting,
The cylinders should be firing
Though now expiring, into nothing.
It's not snow, it's just a dusting.
I have a two, a five, a seven, jack and queen,
In other words, I am absolutely bluffing.
The suit does not match the shoes that
I wore to score a date too late.
Miss Cinderella it's half past eight
And those glass shoes are positively fake.

Today I wrote nothing,
Mistrusted my hand to stand on it's own
But Mr. Right, I was wrong.
You need to leave the page alone.
Today, I drank a drink that made me think
I'd never stop the twitching hop
My mind had surely bled
And left this mess before I went to bed.
Gabriel K Sep 2015
They found him on the floor at home
having “some kinna episode"
they called the ambulance
it's epilepsy
they said
violent spastication
what does it mean?
a message of some kind
an angry spirit
struggling to escape?
“It's probably genetic”
they said
or drug-abuse
you're not a prophet or seer
take Lamotrigine
8 hours sleep
no alcohol drugs cigarettes caffeine
the absences are temporary
a few minutes a day
the memories?
Who needs them anyway?
Look forward not back
look after yourself
© Gabriel K

— The End —