two months of a constant drip of cbd kept the ship even keeled on the seas now the razor edge of mania is speaking in dulcet tones never feel as alive as when the madness gets you high but the precipitous fall is always one step away it has been so long since the last […]
didn’t wake up as much as dashed from bed this morning mind already racing fixated laser focus coffee made clothes laid out night before prepared fully dressed coffeed foot bouncing staring at clock thinking thinking thinking is this what the song meant just another manic monday must i walk like an ancient egyptian back stooped […]
onetwothreefourfive onetwothreefourfive straighten the paper cap on the pen have to go outside knock three times on the door touch the frame doesn’t feel right onetwothreefourfive onetwothreefourfive knock three times touch the frame better watch the ground step on a crack break your good luck streak too many fractures cross the road black car blue […]
i fear i’ve opened a vein a vain, a vane, a vein vanity, venial, verity, verify sitting in a rickety car at the top of a steep incline wooden slats, metal seats, a rusty safety harness the operator smiles up at me his one tooth gleaming in the moonlight as he prepares to pull the […]
falling down the effevescent sphincter of life, broken glass and razor blades, another manic episode of america’s spiralling into depression gargling molten lava, screaming soundlessly into the void that is hope patently insane, insatiably sanctimonious, begging for help and feeling the cold restrain of emptiness empty, alone, asking god for help and hearing the echoed […]
standing alone waiting for the elevator to take you anywhere but here tapping your foot to the crematorium blues psychotically chattering incoherently mouthing the words just bopping along the jet blue flames hissing their song you slide the bodies in you pull the ashes out you drop the metal disc in and you scream from […]
two weeks with my only tethers to this mortal coil, my progeny, my shattered soul made whole managed to make it home, the roiling mass of tentacles, the curling ball of sorrow like acid etching the back of my throat before collapsing in a heap it is quiet now no noise to muffle the frantic […]
instead of mirrors the world would be a much more wonderful and strange place if we could see ourselves as others do no reflective surface needed no taint of inner turmoil which manic stage are we at today the one where everything is beautiful nope it is all shit the mirror is a one way […]
Mike's Manic Word Depot 