Under the crushing weight of deep thought,
my mind collaspes, with all that i got.
al that i got,
to live up too, all that i want to do, accomplish,
live for and more.
So many thoughts randomly attack
with the buzz buzz buzz
of a bee, stinging me sweetly
in all the wrong spots.
thinking thoughts of everything i have,
and all that i have got.
things i have choosen but other things,
i have caught.
like the slight of a sneeze…
the beginnings of a bigger malady.
a song starts outs,
in the background of a room covered in red.
red paint, red walls, red bedsheets…
the color of anger, the color of passion, the color of sex.
red is the color of the universe as she bleeds out.
and i am strapped down, deeply divided,
by my own polarities .
Strapped down tight to a railroad crossing,
a railroad track of an unhinged mind.
nothing worse or less-
than the fact the mind is of my own.
And the metaphor belongs to me Alone.
A self-portrait designed by the Poetic.
A tortured soul, a depressed young woman,
middle aged and over-ripe, by time.
musings of a manic-depressive mind.
of a dress-rehearse-sal…
i am a passerby, as i watch words,
tumble loosely from fingertips coated in fine
golden dust, as my shadow slowy changes
from wine to rust.