I sit here
and draw
pictures
with words,
piecing them
together,
thought by
thought—
a puzzle of
fantasy,
imagination,
creativity,
and just a touch
of madness.
And I am
quite mad—
though,
not in the
sense of
being mad,
but in the sense
of I AM mad;
that is, insane,
crazy, nuts,
and entirely
bonkers!
And I reckon
my madness
is quite mad,
contrary to
what you
might think.
And so are
the words
that I write.
And I will write
these stories,
and poems.
I will write
the madness
away, and sing
a lovely song
without ever
saying a word.
Because I am
mad, bonkers,
and quite lost, too—
though my madness
can last forever.
And so can
this poem,
for there is
no end
to the madness,
even after
I am gone.