Manic Control

Sometimes I feel higher than high;

Going 120 down a gravel drive,

Each jolt brings me close to death,

But it’s fine if I don’t catch my breath.

 

Sometimes I feel lower than low;

Crushed and broken on a rocky floor,

Each stone in my flesh like a sheathe,

But it’s fine as long as I breathe.

 

Sometimes I feel out of control;

Giddy and shaking I reach for the bough,

My weight I know it cannot hold,

But my mind won’t be anything but bold.

 

And now I’m free falling,

Wind rushing by my face,

And though I can’t control the pace,

At least my emotions are changing.

 

I’m never more in control

Than when I’m dying.