Glittery Boys Floating in Mania, poem by Drem (with audio)

Manic lows and highs are horrible. But, occasionally, you get a nice one before you crash. And those nice ones are so nice. And make me trip…

 

Glittery Boys Floating in Mania, a poem by Drem

Written July 1, 2016

 

“These pretty fuckboys

with their black hair and piercings

who never finished college,

who don’t make eye contact,

and curse like a motherfucker

at their computer screens

in-between watching Star Trek

and reading

Edger Alan Poe

and self-medicating

with alcohol,

pills or whatever

for their undiagnosed

but obvious

mood disorder-

what the fuck is with all these bipolar and borderline

or schizoaffective

or schizophrenic boys liking me?

I swear I get more numbers in a psych ward than in a bar.

It’s the cycle.

The women in our family.

We attract the secretly unstable.

The secretly abusive

∗who refuse to seek help and never acknowledge a problem∗

(unlike me who is trying to save herself).

Bad boys. Quiet. Thinking. Creative. Smoking.

Clouds they are in

and thoughts they are thinking so quickly

and books they are writing

so interesting.

They’ll surely be best sellers or cult classics…

if they ever finish anything.

Any moment a change of face.

I call eccentric instead of crazy.

A new person appears in front of me

in the room,

in the moment,

and him and I are both left confused

because neither of us know who we are talking to.

And that’s a daily thing.

One after the other I go through.

And then comes the admission of cutting.

Yeah, we should start a club.

And the awkward kissing.

How many times did you try to kill yourself?

And it’s just… been there before.

I hate dating myself.

Mommy lasted 20 years and I’m lucky if I last 2 months.

I’m catching on

that my self-esteem makes me vulnerable

to the magic manic highs

those boys get

as they float from room to room

covered in paint

with that wild look in their eyes

from the sleep deprivation cured by cocaine,

and from their current travel on the ever so glittery LSD.

Oh, they’re so beautiful!

And they need me.

And they want me.

And they love me

until they forget who I am

and go fuck somebody else.

I even tried church and got the same result.

I hate dating a worse version myself.

I swear I get more numbers in a psych ward than in a bar.”

 

 


3 thoughts on “Glittery Boys Floating in Mania, poem by Drem (with audio)

  1. I love that line more numbers in a psych ward, brilliant, I wouldn’t be surprised. This is a really interesting look at attraction I actually floored me with self analysis hoping I don’t come across like this. But I have better hair.
    As a man you idealise the thought of the attention but the stark reality you’ve so eloquently described isn’t something to admire. Just a brilliant piece!

    Like

    1. i do get more numbers in self-help centers, therapy waiting rooms and hospital settings /-:
      They are glittery. Pretty. Pretty boys in skinny jeans. And high on life, I mean a chemical imbalance. Talkative while I’m quiet and reserved. Pulling me into their magic mania.

      I don’t know if u have better hair.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It sounds captivating to be caught in but ultimately tragic. I think the most telling word is boys. Thoughts still on playing games and wanting to be looked after rather than evolving. I certain can’t and won’t judge but I do feel for you and the manic attention thrust upon you.
        I’d just agree, my hair is awesome. 😉 Actually I have no idea but it’s funny to say 😄

        Like

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