move to small island village
bartend at only bar
serve drunk Irishmen
sleep soundly

mother mother Mary
this ain't be my first last sin

this ain't my debut spin crash win
show you who a liar really is
tella true soul diss
like

i see right through you
transparent yet clouded
like the holy ghost
tame you as my host

life isnt so grey in technicolor
i murmur into the pillows
yelling solitary in my room

cant remember past nor future
all blurs into great stillborn lie
little chasms of death where
once were brain cells
olneys lesions

Trying to do laundry but the voices in my head call to me from the dark abyss.

The blue sumner sky and light summer breeze somehow make my insides freeze insidiously and I want to hide but my apartment is hardly a lesser nightmare.

No where to hide they are coming for me and so they should I deserve to have the sky coming crushing down on me.

Trust no one. Not even myself. They're coming, where's my knife.

I am Zen master's tea 1130 window sun
I am HanShan's eternal mountain gladness
I am Des Cartes mapping out antineuroses
I am Blue whale sinking beneath blue sea
I am Red archean hot volcanic fissure bed
I am Dead cell apoptosis disintegrated

life goes on
even if you're
standing still