Leaves fall like rain on the roof...
The wind is cold and harsh,
It denies any sleep I may have hoped for, though hope is scarce these days, and at night,
It is all but non-existent, a memory of a feeling, and the memory fades with every  pass of the moon,
Grey is the world, and I can't be sure whether it is truly so, or be it that my vision is filtered by my experiences, so that colour is a lost thing.
My mind is limbo, is purgatory, roamed by the most terrifying creatures, the most wicked demons my imagination is capable of conjuring up and they hunt me, stalk me, pursue me relentlessly, I am always fleeing my thoughts.
I question my fear, I ask why,
Why must I feel so disconnected,
Am I truly a different shade of person, belonging to another canvas,
I am incompatible, dysfunctional,
I am not what others are and again I question.
Society proclaimed garbage, due to a broken, fractured nature.
Disbelieve society, for what is a mosaic, but the broken, fractured pieces of a whole, what is art but pieces of an artist.
Disprove the idea of social normality,
Show them the truth of humanity,
What we can touch, smell, see, and hear is less than one millionth of reality.
Deny the vultures your heart.