Mania

For this is mania; damn near all of it
The dreaded 'inundated'
Flooded my all with everything.
I need to breathe.
Relax.
Saunter a bit, perhaps in nakedness
Though doing so guarantee's a halt- by default
I go no further than un-chemically able;
I've not signed up for any pills
The bare body will remain shaded
From all forms of perception and yet-
Benefit still finds me.

In a threadless state I wander
Muscles mosey in freedom
They are programmed to recognize
The wind dancing over pores
The farthest reaches of body that lie coveted
They too feel the fresh air
As blood there turns to wax, melted
Moving slowly...in the heat of the day.
Sun warmed skin basking-
On a plateau filled with alone time.
This is my daydream, my
Perfection.

In thought I relinquish all agony
The destitution of the senses,
That which leaves my body feeling curt-
Pissed, neglected.
I am on a bullet train
A bastard of a coal-burning ego trip.
Mute am I, to the sensitivities from so long ago.
I slap reminiscence- face first
Replacing all melancholia with remorse
If I wish to bask in that daydream,
I must first lay waste to all needs
For within my own wants
They are secular and lack reward.

When I have sufficed my last resource
Burgeoning every last promise with delivery-
I will slink away from this chasm of the curtailed
Re-moistening every last crumb that held flavor
And break free of horse-blinding focus.
I will yet again play, when the dues have been paid
For in my procreation I find the greatest joy;
To release my goals by the dozen,
To be made stronger and more acute in aim
To this, I pay homage with the only currency
Worth a damn;
Time.
Time is, after all- of the essence...
...and so I move on.