I must be crazy,
for the thoughts
rushing into
my head will **** me.
They can make me mad.
I'm afraid of me.
Is this the way of the poets?
I think we are all crazy.
Walking around with our clothes on
but really mad.
These thoughts are bizarre,
crazy in their pattern,
unfolding in my head
in such crazy ways,
makes me feel weird.
I think the problem of
my problem is the problem.
I really don't know where all
those thoughts are coming from.
I see them coming,
I can hear them,
whispering in my head
so loud as if my eardrums will burst.
I want to close my ears from
their pesky rumblings,
but I can't because they are coming from a different sphere
and can't be stopped.
I hear their footsteps matching
down my spine.
I feel their breath on my shoulders,
so close for comfort.
Can you hear them too?
I must be crazy.
I am.
I am!!
I am?
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