Like stained glass in a chruch window
The people slashed my face
Red ignorance formed tiny droplets of isolation on my grimace
Dug deep into every inch of nail bed and hair folicale of my was the horrifying visions of authorities and friends continually brutalizing themselves in a twisted insanity
Ants oblivious to the impending massacres above them
To scratch out ones eyes and ears we must depersonalize
Drifting in the wind behind my body
Hazily hovering between battle feilds of disturbing emotional connectivity  
Playing the lottery with my own neurological chemistry
I obtained several steps away