a certain sort of madness
that floating lift, that marshmallow chest feeling
one pill and a day to a dosage on a steady climb,
its that certain kind of madness that forces a grin
a toss of a bung away kink which can’t touch enough,
you spoil yourself and all’s ok in the moment
all those natal spears that click towards a camber
you’re driven, rode to sweet oblivion in a treacle truck,
smashing through the snow of a fear only you know
a paranoia of tempered steel cloaked in a fake resolve
no fusion or cohesion to these strands that are sewn up,
like warn butter your reality slips through your blur of fingers
waved in front of your face to an unkempt crazed stare,
a certain kind of madness has befallen you
sanity is there but its set sail and drifts upon a lake,
its tethered by a burning length of maritime rope
to be pulled in before its gone, before its too late
