Mania

Mania ( poets / Objective_Football57 ) I am not drunk or high. I'm just perceiving everything differently. I can fly in music even without substances. My hands are burning and lava is running from my ear. I'm moving away from the phone in my hands. A black hole is pulling me in. But it's colorful. Inspiration for my poems is my life. My feelings. My love. My thoughts. A long struggle. Until the end of life. But so much energy out of nowhere. Jumping all day, not sleeping all night. Being friendly and extroverted, even though I'm normally an extreme introvert. Mania or hypomania is fine until it ends. Regretting almost everything that happened. Then it's another pain from embarrassment. mania,mania