the switch.

driven
like a windup toy stuck on full i am constant movement & never sitting still.
awash with all my dreams i fill
notepads of plans for years ahead
i am fitting fifty steps into every hour i have & even still
i feel
there’s never enough time.

i can write a 15 page research paper in one night & it’s nothing
i am stacking up my a’s in the sink
i am contemplating skipping my masters to do my doctorate;
i am planning on graduating two degree programs at the same time.

i am ignoring
the look in your eyes when you ask me “why are you doing so much?” and
“when do you sleep?”
because this doesn’t feel like too much to me; i am driven
why wouldn’t i do everything if i have the time?
i’m unreasonable & irrational; i’m hypomanic.

i am ignoring
the little voice in the back of my head that wonders “what are you running from?”
because i know i’ll eventually find out;
& later i am
finding out —

later i am
like a switch suddenly unable to get out of bed
as if my life has been stripped away
all my old goals belong to someone else
i feel stupid for even considering i could;
i have no desire to do anything other than
simply exist
and even that
feels like too much.