Manic

Just like the title says

I am up and down and inside out

Within the confines of my existence

A roller coaster ride of emotions

A mixed bag of strange devotions

One moment I feel free and the next

I’m bound, gagged, and locked in captivity

Not even a court order can get me out

My jailor does not know acquiescence

And we are annoyed by each other’s presence

Or presence of mind

 

And now I’m flying high above the clouds

Feeling carefree and extraneous

Untouchable, relaxed in my own skin

Until I hit some turbulence and then

I panic, my self-assurance vexed

I lose the fight with gravity

I’m plummeting to my demise among the crowds

Who watch me free fall plainly just

To witness something odd and spontaneous

Or spontaneously blind

Author's Note

Notes on poem structure. I wanted it to rhyme, though imperfectly, and to have two "like" stanzas reflecting the different extremes of mania, but I did not want to limit myself to a particular cadence or syllable count. So, this poem is sort of manic in itself, straining to be in control, to be normal, to master itself. And yet, even as it attempts to "fit in", it cannot quite achieve its goal, nor is it meant to.