it’s weird that you can
grab these tools
in any hardware
store
whenever you want
hose and a
duct tape
and sleeping meds
from the drug store
It’s all available
these days
and so it should be
Society shouldn’t try so
hard to keep all of its
members alive
she could preach for hours
on the subject
and would do such a good
job about it
that even you’d start
believing
On that night when she
confessed
her madness to me
I told her, “You can have
fun with your insanity. Chance
the world even.
Hadn’t all the people who
changed the world been
insane?
Don’t be too quick to
throw it away or seek to ‘heal’ it.
There is another way out.
And it’s through.”
She said she knew I’d say
that. Because her insanity
was the ability to
see into the future
She then left
because she knew I would
not lend her
my car to
suicide in it by connecting
the hose to the exhaust pipe
“You can’t drive a car,” I
said. “Ain’t got
no license.”
and she said, “I don’t wanna
drive it. Just
do the thing with the
hose.”
“Yeah, but to do that
you’d have to take the car
away somewhere. Can’t do it
anywhere here in the city, you
know?”
“How about you drive us
somewhere–?”
“And then what? Come back
with your body on
the passenger’s seat?”
She didn’t say much after
that
She could see the
future in 144 branches,
as she put it.
144 possibilities for
it to unfold in every next
144 seconds.
Meanwhile I was
so short sighted that I
couldn’t even see
what she really wanted when
she suggested that I drive us
both somewhere
She wanted me to go
with her
all the way
to the other side
I’m not sure I would’ve
said no
back then
It would’ve been part of
my insanity
But, what do you know,
even that changes
If you stick around for long
enough you
discover that it can
be toyed with - the insanity
The form it has today
is the form that
allows me to write about her
all those years later
She was mad enough to
see the future
I was mad enough
to see her
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "insanity can be toyed with"!
Check it out HERE!
Thank you!
Daydreaming as a profession 
This is a powerful and haunting piece. It captures a devastating intimacy between two forms of “insanity”—one that sees an inevitable end in 144 branches of the future, and another that clings to the mundane and practical as a flawed, desperate form of love.
The tragic irony is that the narrator, who claims to be “short sighted,” was the one who failed to see the most immediate truth: her plea was not for a solo journey, but a shared one. The final lines reframe survival not as sanity, but as a different kind of madness—one that allows the past to be held and shaped into story.
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An interesting and emotional text that reflects the complexity of human feelings and thoughts about madness and the future. 💭✨ The message is deep and thought-provoking.
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Thanks for checking it out!
(^_^)
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I absolutely love this poem. Your mind is a wonderland!
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（☆ω☆*）
Oh, many thanks for checking it out!
Very much appreciated! 🙂
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Wow this was really powerful and I like the way you wrote it and set it out on the page. It reads almost like a monologue. It was very moving.
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Many thanks for checking it out, Mickey!
(^_^)
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