The Poem I Wrote in my Right Mind

I finished something today-

Could it be the sun? Or maybe it’s the Ritalin.

The careless way my fingers hit the keys —

makes me sense the differance between stimulants and inspiration

The difference being that there really isn’t one outside of name

I could state the obvious and say that I’m emotionally fucked

At the time of writing this.

Or clear up confusion and make my use of drugs to fuel writing

Less a deliberate act to misuse my medications and more a result of: The Inevitable Nature of Flow

Or something about: The Flow of Nature – and how humans have                           misused and abused

Drugs for centuries hoping to gain some better state of being…

That being being expanded by music and little squares of paper that sit under your tongue

Only to find yourself staring back at ghosts in an unusual way that is much unlike the way

   The words on my laptop usually make me think of ghosts

The calming nature of overmedicating your problems                                               till they disappear

Or at least till the shaking subsides and makes way for a steady/calm/relaxing/pure glass of water

My body running cold like an electric engine wishes it could feel more like yours

More like jazz

More like ours

More like a glass of water

More like a good poem

A bad poem

A real poem

                                                                              A poem written in my right mind.