"Lay down upon a couch of your comfort,
and come walking down the stairs;
Come falling, sleeping, through the sunburst
sky, as your feet find themselves without cares.
Lay that little soul out bare, stripped of sense,
and under the scrutiny of my stare.  
Let me see why the now makes your past tense.
And why your head holds your stomach in suspense. “

If I open it it will come spilling
tripping me choking me suffocating
this already breathless existence
that pours fear to dilute sense and
strengthen apprehension yes that
very one I gulp down each day
throwing it back up just to feast
on it once again in the endless
cycle of ****** torment that grows
swollen and engulfs my everyday
every hour every minute madness
where every second turning sickly and
cramming itself down my throat till the
clock breaks or I do usually me.

I had found myself lost.
Wandering in circles
and mumbling madly to himself.  
So I took him back home,
bathed him, and tucked him in for the night.

A crawling blue veined nightmare
drags itself through the hole in my head;
drooling, *******, and vomiting.
It's nails dig deep, and peirce through my mind
like the screech of'a rusting train,
grinding itself to a halt that never comes.  
I can taste his filth upon my own tongue,
as the air of regret starts to fill these lungs.

Nested, now, behind my ever open eyes,
he and his filth pile up and clutter my sight.
I blink and I turn blind,  
as sleep wakes him into white and a blinding light.

I am forever understanding
that I will often fail to do so;
more and more I learn
what I will never truly know.

" For me, it makes sense to write nonsense"

'The mind's just a sky. The mind's just a sky.
Life's just the lie that we live til' we die.
Hell is in my head, but heaven's there too.
I quite like them both; so should each of you!  
The mind's just a sky. The mind's just a sky.
We will float and fall through it, learning to fly.
You can’t loose the sky, or be out of it
(and If you can you should be proud of it).
Oh to walk in the heavens oh so high and out of it. "

He crashed as he landed, and banged’s hollow head;
it shattered like glass and began spilling
out thoughts onto the carpets itching thread.
His ego bruised as theres savagely fed
on the headless body that was left- filling
themselves full with the foolish words he’d said.
They are the foulest of the foolish,
                                                        the cruelest kind.
Ego's without heart, brains without mind;     W

Backs
           without                                                       A
                       spines,
                                    teeth
                            without                             ­          L
                      bite,
             actors
without lines. Down the stairs they climb.        L
To the top of the bottom, only to find
that the endless sky, is the very thing that confines
  
                                      US
                                     ALL.

The mind's just a sky: another endless wall.