My mirth is dark,
inside a brain stem of insane
memories, is a humor,
coursing through
my temples,
straining my neck
eating me inside out.

laughing as i cry
crying as i laugh.

Tearing itself from me, begging
scratching a way to break free, out
laughing at all my inanity and self deprecating
straining.

my side, in pain, as I see
the humor behind me. It , maybe haunts,
my laughs.