Sometimes, I pin-point things.
I break them down single handedly
causing no disruption
to your lack of observation.
This interrupts some significant
social dysfunctions that manifests me daily.
Remorse for things, what things, I have no things.
I have pieces of bizarre delusions
in which I feel I need at the time.
I don’t need these things.
They already exist in here.
Burn them.
They’re already all around me.
Taunting, specifying,
predicting my next move, next thought.
Aroused brain assumptions.
Your still there.
Not noticing.
I need my medicine.
Medication.
Things.
Pill is a noun.
Noun- Person, Place, or Thing.
Never mind that disorganized thought,
I don’t need them anyway.

My mind
The Stage
I’m filled to a brim of dimmed bar lights
With the fewest of men gathering after works brew
Too much wheat
Too much rye
You’ve always enjoyed the flavor, so I counted on you for tonight’s half way pay.
Taste buds-yours are different
The stage and bar are both my mind, most nights
You work here?
I do not recall hiring you
No recorded resume either
Guess that’s how you’ve always gotten by
My intoxicated, stricken tendencies not caring to scam a background check  
What a hell of souls bottling down memories no longer apart of their minds
Guess that’s why I am an entire nightclub on the inside
Full of memory, music of genre spread variety
Giving many great nights of their short lives
I did so to you
Your on stage hovering like the snarling business associate you’ve always been.
But why was I too?
Dis-associating me from that is no option now
Nor ever
Oh your working around in my mind, I had almost forgotten
It’s been few too many drinks tonight.

I’m filthy
I’m sitting in my minds smoky corners with pool tables crowding my space
Click Click Are your breaking?
You have always liked my rack…ing
Dim blue lighting
When I take form of a whole crowd, I am an entire dim blue light
Your white
On a pedestal
Soaking Sulking Screaming
******* your way out
Expression Blank expression,
But maybe you’ve forgotten who’s mind your working in?
I’m reading you in italic bold
Your hiding it from everybody
But I know
I finally told somebody
They haven’t sold
Why do you erode my mind?
Still I ask
I have yet to discover that
Something I am sure of is that this VIP party won’t last
It’s getting late
Your way to drunk
Me too
How did you start working for this exclusive party anyway?
Sleep it off
I’ll fire you another day

Arcadia, or what is now spliced of aeons' great

Gates of gold that rust in hate

Islands on grim sulfur lakes;

I have no demeanors that wait

They've left and gone away

To the rise of demise and acid rain

Where epidermis boils

Quintessence abolished and spoiled;

Grand scent of desiccant

Miff's so indelicate

Caveats and feats of nothing; No rise

My apotheosis' hellish paradise