Life told me I **** at making people happy

But I'm great at making them think

Clockwork declares my trajectory tenacious

Never has it seen such animosity towards existing

My sincerity is matched only by electricity extinguished for better imagining

My demons come from seasons spent consumed by a dripping faucet

Its my only consistency in this perpetual spill

The waves crash into porcelain

I hear it above everything

handheld seas and garbage bird dawns

I'm left wading with sharks

Emphasized spirals of sickness

My condition is nothing special

The mind fuzz declare my brain addled

I still pay the bills but always with a sane display

fearing the snug plug of an electro shock embrace

My imagination is measured in concrete stretches

0rgy arcades and gun powder prisms

liquor lounges with dim lit kings

I no longer linger here

I'm ripped apart by casual tragedy

Surely

This adaptation we consume will prove fleeting in its distraction

Thoughtful fiends ever receding

I choke when I remember there is no such thing as an innocent grace

My perceptions have always come in the depths they do

How would I know if they were truly askew ?

What is base line reality?

Everything is hilarious and nothing makes sense

I stray into suspension

Between despondency and awareness

between survival and empathy

I never claimed purity

I only have a brain full of obscurity

Still

So often I trip over shocked expressions

Limbs in rigid stances

Bodies rejecting mortality

Fine tuned urgency interrupted by the occasional sigh

I'm losing it and I don't have the answers