Manic

Write this a few weeks ago. Forgot to post it.

I am full of

everything

tonight.

I want to

go for a run around campus

make turkey gravy and truffles

listen to the same song over and over and over

and sing along

but it’s two am

and I have class at 8.

I cannot leave my bed 

without waking roommates

cannot leave the apartment

without trouble.

So I sit and write

everything

a short story about a dragon and a mage

a poem

then another

another,

words spilling out of me like air

from swimmer’s lungs.

I want to swim

take a cold shower

sit in a bubble bath.

I am trembling with longing to do, do, do

something.

Fingers twitch.

I cannot turn on the light,

and the screen is too dim 

to knit by

but I want to create something

tangible,

tangle my fingers in yarn,

or prick them with embroidery needles.

No light.

I write, sweating from a racing heart

but no reason why

except the mania

that has overtaken me despite the meds

and holds me tight, won’t let go.

I am full of everything

bursting at the skin

straining at my seams.