Thin wisps of water smoke
float through the air
making me cough and choke
as white vapors dispel
my own inner mental veil
of memories that are not there.

My eyes cloud up with stuff
that should make sense,
the energy of my very being
shivering and vibrating
into an altered frequency
as I try to unburden myself
of this twisted reality.

I am the butterfly who tried
to dream himself a man.
My wings fluttering to an effect
that I suspect will be multiplied
into a cursed crimson tide.

Sitting on the otherside
of my exhausted mind
trying to enhance my thoughts
with the caffeine capsules I bought.

But fatigue makes me
a duller version of the man
I always strived to be,
longing for the looming
death of sleep
where my consciousness
ceases and reorganizes
and another version dies
to be replaced by
a strange well rested guy.