i’m not crazy
i’m manic today
and the hazy greys
look like lazy blues
i’m hungry again
and these straight-out-the-dryer
chicken fried socks
feel good on my feets
morning morning
i just wanna clean
my room to sunlight
i don’t want to fuck anything
i just want to stare at the mirror
and figure him out
i am love bubbling
floating to the center of everything
defying sciences and spirits of man
i know i’m not happy
my brain is playing a cheap trick
feeding me fast food, but
who cares who cares who cares
all that matters is the first three bites
where the vinegar and pickles shock your cheeks
and the buns coat the top of your mouth with sweetness,
the mush on your tongue tastes exactly how it’s advertised
and you know it’s not real but you don’t think about it,
you just enjoy it for the moment,
while your breath grows heavy
and your face starts feeling greasy
and you smell like onions
and your body is preparing itself
to crash violently back into depression.
—
“good manic morning”
©Steven Cuenca