Thorny Poetry - 14. Hypomanic

the constant noise

in my head, voices

they’re all mine

they push me this way and that

tell me what to do

but won’t let me do it

it’s like a storm and

i want to sleep, but

i can’t with all this noise

and endless, endless writing

stories

music

poetry

should be grateful

for the inspiration

should be grateful

for the songs

should be grateful

but my brain is spinning, singing, slinging thoughts

like endless dreaming but awake

and i can’t focus, only listen

but there’s too much noise to hear

still, words keep coming, running through

my head like dancers, going to

some place where paper catches some of them

not all of them, but

some

should be grateful

but i crave the silence