the crowd goes wild
when i lose track of my mind
and jump into an empty promise of hands
waiting for wrists to crack under my weight.
to surf on the voices of my demons is to give into impulses as they arise.
people cheer louder for energy they can see,
no matter that the demons cut the cables
and the wires lay bare and ready
to electrocute with their touch.
crowds want to see their heroes fall //
so when Mania comes along, she dances along stage edges
and tiptoes her way into the crowd.
she launches herself into the air with reckless abandon
close my eyes tight
hoping for something to break my fall.
great poem! I love to see stuff like this in the mag