Bloodshot eyes cracking open,
From severe lack of sleep,
I cannot think for the life of me,
And I may be in too deep.
How I'm staying awake to write this poem,
Is beyond my wildest dreams,
And though I'm in an emotional drought,
Everything feels as it seems.
When I get my feeling back,
Will I feel again for you?
When returned is my love of everything,
Will I still deny it's true?
In twenty-four hours,
How will I feel?
Will I be happy?
Will I know if it's real?
I really did think,
It was under control,
But I still act differently,
When I feel like a troll.
How can I get butterflies,
That I trample to the ground,
When my emotions are a blur?
When I emit no sound?
When my thoughts are blank,
But something is there?
When my eyes are glued shut,
And yet I stare?
Why do I feel awkward,
Writing this down,
As if the thought of letting it out,
Will surely make me frown?
How can I feel awkward,
Without feeling, anyway?
When my mind stops at ev'ry syllable,
Why do I have so much to say?
Why am I so worried?
This should flow down the drain!
Now, do you believe what I have told you?
I'm scary when I'm sane!
