Do I live for the thrill ?
Or is the thrill killing me ?
No but really, what's the deal ?
It's pleasure or pain for all I see
.
How can I feel so good
When I am so low ?
I devour or deny myself any food
Rejoicing in the aching by doing so
.
I just want to feel everything
Or nothing at all
To the smallest stimulus I cling
Until I fall into withdrawal
.
It's up and away to heaven
Followed by a devilish crash
The divine counts to seven
While I turn to ash
.
More and more
Again and again, it's insane
Until the pleasure turns to pain
And makes me sore
.
I can do eveything but stay
In any of the middle grounds
Either silence as the better play
Or impulsive shouting sounds
.
Why can't I stay sitted ?
Why can't my brain function as it should ?
Because too many times I wish it could
As it breaks from being this stimulated
YOU ARE READING
iii
PoetryA collection of heartfelt poems. Homage to the english language that I love so much. There will be a wide variety of feelings expressed but I prefere them strong. Enjoy.
