I feel like I have been struck with insanity,
Not worrying about what should make me worry,
Worrying about crumbs that just spilled under my seat,
When my sister just dropped and stabbed a knife in her feet,
Heartbreak all on top of a migraine and this **** pain,
Won't become numb because my overactive mainframe,
Keeps running at the speed of light over sound,
And now other ******* people are inbound,
They won't stop yelling and bickering about useless topics,
They speak quicker and I'm trying to get lost in the tropics,
The solitude where I might be able to find peace,
Probably not cause fantasies remove the fixed ease,
That never seems to come to me,
Even rarely when I can flee,
Thoughts get mixed with a lack of glee,
Lost in em' till' I'm ******* lost at sea,
At the same time I'm 8 miles up a tree,
My brains files are scattered and blowing free,
I do not belong in this family,
Redneck dad and my mother, Cherokee,
I'm just an emo *****, I'm unsightly,
So, "Get The **** Out!", I say politey,
When I am thinking it in its worst possible form,
Stay in bed, move out, but **** hotels and dorms,
Even though that is the only **** I can afford,
Minus college cause no scholarship was ever scored,
These are some ways to find isolation,
Maybe a little mental vacation,
Even though it's in the same location,
That started my depressive sensations,
So I'll stumble in my sadness,
While I'm lost in my mind palace,
I am done chasing that dumb rabbit,
I'll leave that to people like Alice,
He keeps checking the clock and will grab it,
Till' it falls, cracked on the ground and stabbed in,
His toes and he starts bleeding,
Other memories fleeting,
Bad memories that are gone now,
Time hurt and healed the rabbit, wow,
I just got to wait some more,
And avoid anymore ******,
Snooping around tryna' get some,
This rap was dumb and I'm done.

And I built shrines in my eyes to you
to mourn what I never had but still held onto.
Dove into an ocean of profound blue
only to come out still nothing anew.
I look out at fig trees
ponder like the Greek’s great Socrates
question my disease,
the words I can’t release.
My life spinning all around him
orbitals of light grown dim.
Through space you cannot swim
from the sins you have been condemned.
If I am mad as they say
how do I still walk the driveway?
Worship on the Lord’s day;
get down on my knees and pray?

Faithful I am, still, to the life I have lived
however disguised.
Loving, as I will when all has died.
Everything you’ve seen is advertised,
a movie set in frames
the tape up in flames.
How tired she is of playing your games,
mouths running to blame.
Me? I am just fine.
Owing it all to bottles on bottles of sparkling wine,
to you and your redesigned
view of the dividing line.

If you wake a girl from her dreams
the gentle chug of a mind’s machine
will it break down, by all means?
It’s better to let her softly scream.
Than distract from the will of inspiration,
of art and death's flirtation.
Continue the persisting narration
speak her mind, give it standing ovations!

July 14, 2017
Why break a person who’s already at their breaking point? You see, there’s broken pieces of flesh surrounding us. So how long until there’s a phone call? We people rest easily side by side, but the ground has been dug up. We choose to see the light, yet how does one find light when those keep locking spirits in a cave? The sun is stretching but this person is lodged at the bottom of the ocean, and all those cries are just whispers amongst the cold cement.

Far amongst the treacherous lands is a journey to find a white rose fulfilled with loyalty, but they continue to keep running into thick deep cut thorns cutting into the skin of their unfathomable dark secrets. Those secrets are gone and so is the rest of the person. That person will attempt to scream once more into the distance, but the fog has become stronger than the voice they can release, and now they are done, drenched in thick grey smoke unable to breath, choked upon memories, no longer more.

A
Big
Complication:
Dealing
Emotions
For
Great
Heaps
Inasmuch
Jea­lousy
Kicks
Low
Medially
Now
Over
Passion
Quickly
Running
Strands­
Triggering
Unexpected
Voices
X-Ray
Yields
Zest

Part of me dies when
Part of you escapes me
It's you my love who
Breaks and makes me
I've given you this power
Can't pull it back
I'm touched by insanity
My own soul hates me.

Memories hunker behind
a door marked “Blessed Oblivion”.
The key is under the mat.
To choose one, open and peek
inside would be
a foolish flagellation.

Secrets simmer in cannibal pots,
lids held down by tenuous fingers.
Some truths deserve to be buried.
Some memories must be held
as closed as a spinster’s knees.

Doors opened less than judiciously
trigger popping puppets that scream.
A mind is only as strong
as its most heinous memory.

Some minds are olios, badly stirred,
their orts floating in a brine of insanity
that needs a pinch of salt.
Reality paints itself as a circus clown,
and changes the rules of life
without warning...