Maybe there’s a reason I invert the Y-axis
The same reason I have to smell a glass before drinking from it
I am obsessed with life//and compelled to explode
and explode I shall only after I’m filled to the brim
with all the songs, poems, films, and books
I can cram through the holes in my head
My mouth is a faucet where the flow of insanity and profanity is endless
Maybe there’s a reason it’s all so ding-dang exciting.