i get into
a manic frame of mind
conceptualize
the perfect plan
down to the
finest detail
crafting a simple
yet foolproof plan

and then fold it
gently
before placing it
in the trash

i know these
grandiose visions
my manic treatises
will become
home for spiderwebs
as my depression
prevents me
from being able
to enact them

it took me
three trips to
the post office
to mail out books
because the idea
of standing there
surrounded by people
to engage in
a ten minute transaction
felt on par
with marching across
an unmarked minefield

i write
because living
causes too much
anxiety
i love quietly
and shrink
into a ball
so as to not
cause ripples
i make foolproof plans
forgetting
i am the biggest
fool of them all
preferring daydreams
to letting my
mind poison reality