Where do lost minds go? Where do they hide?
No answers, just question marks.
So called thoughts, though not all the way formed
Still in the race, dehydrated, part of the soundtrack
Of this manic trance not yet subsiding
Overwhelmed circuitry, distorted transmission
Hyper-reality not yet faded
in bronze, silver, gold within my skull Melancholy and anxiety mixture filling the cracks
Hypersexuality not yet tamed
Flickering image of dysphoria wearing laced euphoria
Temperature meets cold
then plays in waves of heat
Great feels worthless-All at once.
Hunger for life gone suicidal-All at once.
Rage, laughter, tears, thrills- Flirty cocktail seeping out.
My brain releases, fountain of insanity: My mind not yet found.