"overanalytical" poems
I rattle on like the wind if you let me
I make a million plans a minute
To go a million places
And **** a million women.
I spin silken sterling yarn with my silver tongue
But I can't do much else.
Not too surprisingly, plenty of people don't care for me.
And for a while I was among them-
The product of an overanalytical mind and a policy of no-bullshit cynical honesty (or maybe honest cynicism), I suppose.
However, on my good days I know it to be true, that I
Can't change them, can't change me.
Why try?
I was built
To fly by the seat of my pants
And try to use my best judgement-
Though I'm probably going to lose my mind
And all my money
And friends
In the process.
We'll see.
The road stretches infinitely onward,
To the bitter end-
God knows I'll get there someday.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
Am I lunatic
Hypersensitive
Overanalytical
Supercritical
Manic yet depressive
Compassionate and understanding
Closed off but wishing youd hold me
Celebrating the solstice,
In control but only of the opportunities presented
I come out in the night to worship the moon
Lunatic
Why is your eye twitching, red with tears
might be rage
I thought you said you said you wouldn’t quiver in the face of uncertainty
Bask in the darkness
your dance will lead the light to you
Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 9:29 PM UTC