hy-po-ma-nic

I am crazy–
crazy, crazy
Filled with the light, and I can shoot stars from my fingertips. The night, it fills me with its dark energy, I am overflowing.
I have it! I want to do it, do it, do everything, I want to fuck you, fuck you up, kiss you, bite you, punch you in the mouth.
Everything, I can do it. Everything–the world. I can drive around, I can talk to people, to everyone. I can dance, I can sing, the songs are flowing through me, the drums. I am sexy, I am sex.
I am breathing life.
I can’t sit still. I have to call someone, to text the one I want (but I’ll regret it later, I know–I can’t do it)
I can’t sleep. I was tired, but not anymore. I can stay awake forever.
I can do everything faster. Look at me type! I can type five thousand words a minute! I can take over the world. I can do it.
I can– I can’t text her. I can’t, because I’ll regret it. I’ll regret it, I can’t do it.
So what do I do? Run in circles at home? Play with the cats? Jump on my bed? I can’t, I can. What? How do I keep this going? How can I always be this way? I want it to be forever.
I can, I can’t.
I can, I can’t.
What do I do? What can I do? I want to drive away, to get in my car, to drive across the country, to meet new people and seduce them all with my magic sexy powers. I can do it, i can’t, I can’t.
I’ll wait. I’ll wait it out, I’ll wait here, I’ll hide my cell phone. I don’t want to regret it tomorrow, again. I can’t do it again.

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