Blurbs of Mania in Which I’m Unseen.

I haven’t surrendered to my mania recentlyI pushed itPressed it downKeep your focusEye on the prizeIt has been the eyeThe eyes of the tigerMeThe unseen tigerI usually don’t let myself fall into silenceBecause I silence the maniaThe sensorial intertwinory doings inside of meSometimes it feels like there are little things punching my chestAnd belly, and legs, and mind, and heartTo break freeWhen I see people those little things disappearAs if they feed from my lonelinessThe blurbs of maniaIt’s a constant calling insideIt always has been yet you knowRavenous to have more of meOnly when we are alone it asks me to stripAnd cover myself in paintOnly then I feel freeI let the blurbs break free and they disappear into the sounds I hearMy sensesIn the blurbs of mania they change costumesIt started with wordsMy desire to bend them up and down and sidewaysWhatever the blurbs mania craved I wantedThe world around me did not taste right

And the smell was odd-likeSo I began drafting it to my willRelativity only fed the blurbs of maniaThe mania that was to intense for manyExternallyMy highs are captivated inside me, unfreeI remember the time at the subwayWaves of emotions the walkers gifted meMy highs resonated all over the corridors and smiles in the warmth of springIt’s difficult to “be”, in which I’m unseen