Now IΒ Β think in poetry there is a line in my mind like one that I have drawn in the sand separating my sanity from my insanity but With my high tides and low tides the line has become so thin it's like a trip wire waiting for an explosion that erases the line. I've Crossed that line. The grass may not have been greener on the other side but beyond that field is a land I had never seen I have discovered I am a dreamer of insanity My mind is consumed by beautiful pastels of stories That i wish were reality My thoughts they are indeed treacherous Electrons moving like traffic in the city sending signals and hallucinations so vivid I lose track of what is real and what is not, I am tricked by false memories That are destroyed by my harsh realities I am a breather of instability My lungs, they fill with poison And never beg for air They crave their nirvanic Asphyxiation A mixture that is toxic to my brain This Further Supplements my insanity I myself am a consumer of depravity My body devours the hedonistic side A craving for flesh in a ****** sense This is done gently at first to watch her tense then loose Its cut in sadistics way She is a ******* so our days are made marks we make are beautiful but never meant to stay I am madness Crazy in content Beautiful in art Unsavory at first But preferred long term I think in poetry This is my blessing and my curse