Kinetic attack

Magma in my rift
No path
No tracks.

Just eruption of truth
I can’t hold back.

ADHD is a hunter’s mind.
My primal core
doesn’t move in straight lines.

0 to 100 –
no warning, no tracks.
Just a sudden release.
Kinetic attack.

So don’t get it twisted.

Where I come from?
Tigers walk on two feet.

And when I stop resisting
what lives in me –

I don’t fall apart.

I ignite.

Hyperactivity in motion
raw life-force creation.

You call it “too much.”
I call it my truth.

My energy is my SHAKTI.
Weaponised frequency
sent to me from my roots.

And honestly?

You’re not scared of disorder.

You’re scared of expression.

Scared of things
that don’t move predictably.
Scared of minds
you can’t linearise.
Scared of intensity
you can’t domesticate.

So you cage what you can’t compute.
Box what you can’t contain.
Pathologise fire
you cannot explain.

But why should I shrink
to fit your box?

A glitch in your matrix.
A misfit in your metrics.

I found my fire
the moment
I stopped apologising
for my instincts.

Because my ADHD
was never a fucking disability.

It was a volcano
trapped beneath suppression.

A nervous system
forced to sit still
while magma built pressure
inside a body
never designed
for confinement.

And maybe that’s why
I was never built
for your neat little lines.

I was built for movement.
For instinct.
For creation.
For impact.

So no –

I didn’t break your cage.

I burnt it.

To ash.

My ADHD
was never a fucking disability.

It is my ART.

ATTACK.