Bubble

Swear there’s a swelling in my soul that
makes me dream neurotic things, it
puts a pressure in my brain it
gives its blessing to my whims and
there’s no way to make it stop but
rock back on my heels and pop this
bitter taboo bubble full of twenty years of trouble
(I've been troubled, I've been troubling-  I'll buy first round for doubles),
it's a battle of the wills, see, when I lose it just refills
but when I win I make it bleed like my pain owes back pay to me,
and I don't suffer, though I scream, as I drain myself of scheming
and of ego and compulsion take a breath and focus in and

If you're lucky then the acid makes it easy.