It's all in your head.
It's not real.
They're just hallucinations.

Are they?
I'm beginning to question my own imagination.

Holding my own hand,
to see if I'm still there.

"We're all mad here."

Can somebody help me?
I'm dreaming away.
In a fantasy land,
where flamingoes are
used to play
croquet.

Who am I?
I've changed several times.
Why is a raven like a writing desk?
I don't know why.

Why do they not recognize me?
Who am I?

Banished out of the pretty garden.
The sweet flowers turned bitter
as they sang.

Like the cookies I consumed
without a second thought.
Washed down with drinks
that I knew not.

I say ,”I'm not a ****.
But I'm not me.”
I'm big.
I'm small.

I'm nothing at all.

Can somebody help me?
It's all in my head.


Off with my head.


- August