Playing in my paper tin
Where the fun ain't got end
Two drops down the rabbit hole
The melting melding mental fluctuations
Burst like stars with each exhalation
Floating exhortations and relief
In the misty cloud of disbelief
Billowing out that acrid smoke does play
Touching tasting an empiric ecstasy
Where the stunted movement of hands follows the solid sound of base thump rhyme  
Keeping the pain at bay
Away from the things I wish to erase
Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe I'm weak
But despite the chaos
I feel complete.