3 Days of Mania: Some Poetry?

What follows is what I wrote during the 3 days in which I was most mentally ill.
It was as if my mind was completely stopped.
The only thing I could do was compulsively write. And I do mean compulsively.
The words I wrote would slowly turn themselves into objects, regardless of what I was doing.
I had delusions like no other. I am not a trained writer. These are not meant to be fancy words.

These were meant to reflect exactly how I was feeling.
Time is not linear, and neither are these poems. Some of them can be read in lots of non-linear ways.
The only reason I put these here is because nobody but me as laid eyes on them despite my efforts to share.

Begin.

Fun fact: I actually don't know what those two things are.

This is part 2 of the 3 days in which I was most mentally ill, and writing in order to try to help others "understand"
At this point in time, I had gotten worse, and was writing even more compulsively. It was taking all of my focus, and I couldn't study for exams.

I was panicking late at night about my exam the next day. I hadn't studied a minute. I'd been kicked out of the class, so it's not like I knew what was going on. (I ended up barely passing that exam. Skin of my teeth.)

This was written contemporaneously the day of the exam.

Again, I was getting worse. My mind was grinding even closer to a halt. The "swirling thoughts" I was used to were starting to grind into a stagnant, useless place. I was trying to escape what I perceived to be the end of my useful thoughts.

This first poem started out as me just writing essentially nothing meaningful. I was whining about how stuck my mind was. How I was just rambling and nothing.

Over time, it turned into that.

It wasn't enough. I had to do something. My mind was still almost completely stopped.
This is when I decided I had to "put an end to the game."

This one was written immediately after waking up that night. I had an exam soon, and I was feeling much, much better.
I would soon start to feel better than I've ever felt in my entire life.

This was the day I felt weird. I felt weird because I felt...good.
This "good" feeling grew exponentially into something I can't describe.
The title was written mid-acid trip.
I ended up sending this to someone I...shouldn't have sent it to.

I quit LSD the next day.
It had ruined my life, and my mind.