Too high to fall, too low to fly

Turned up to eleven

That's how I feel these days

Unbound energy, happiness bursting out of my seams

And down it goes, I'm a jumpy ball of stress and anxiety

Then a profound tiredness, deep in my bones, overwhelming me.

Turned up to eleven

My charm level is trough the roof, everyone is affected

But this restlessness won't leave me alone, nothing is enough

I'm constantly on, desperate, needy, 

I can no longer find any peace and quiet on my own.

Turned up to eleven

I need to go for a long walk

Take a cold shower, maybe ten

Stay in bed with company till the neighbors complain

Something, anything, to calm me down again.

Turned up to eleven

Something is not right in my head

Like a bomb ready to go off, 

Lightning ready to strike

Am I really going to burn a hole in this life of mine?

The subtlety of spring

Waiting for a sign, waiting for a smile
waiting for the bus to arrive.
I hope that he is not
waiting for me to make up my mind.

His whole face lights up when he smiles
It's hard to not to take it personally
As the once frozen river gets antsy
Under the warmth of the sun
My imagination starts running free.

Waiting for a sign, waiting for an opening
waiting long enough
not to look like a fool again.

I don't know the shape of his lips,
His eyes are always distracting me.
His eyes are always distracting me
from listening to what he is really saying.

Waiting for a sign, waiting for something to happen.
Waiting for a smile directed only to me.
Waiting and feeling both bright pink excited
and deeply blue at the same time.

The ebb and flow of the daily life
This is one way to not to get bored at work
Another one is writing a poem instead...