Are others’ minds like mine? Do
They whir with fantasy, then
Screech in harsh accusation?
Are others’ minds like mine? Do
They whir with fantasy, then
Screech in harsh accusation?
The love of your kin spreads its
Virulent tendrils into
My spine, draining my spirit
I’ve lived too long, and
Seen too much. My bones
Ache for rest and peace
I opened the door to the
World, said what I thought and
Believed. I was stomped on and
Crushed. I learned to be what I
Was expected to be. I
Shut and locked the door, tightly.
This is only a
Poor substitute for
A real, vital life
Talking to you is just such
A waste of time, yet I keep
On doing it and feel worse
I have lost my soul and now
I must search the entire
Internet for its pieces
Every word I’ve spoken to
You has been wasted breath. You
Never heard a word I said.
Sobriety means
That I always maintain my
Composure, never
Letting slip how I
Feel, not goofy or sloppy.
It’s fine. I do it.