deepundergroundpoetry.com

Persona non lookie

 

Mine is a scrambled, mixed up mess. Yours, is all uniform and neatly compressed.
Mine acts like a tweaker, totally unlike yours. Yours is to the nines, and mine? To the fours..
The symptoms I exhibit are unsound at best. Surely its easy to let your mind rest.
But fuck no not mine, its busy all the time, no rhyme or reason, with rhythm and rhyme.
I zone in on what I'm doing, until that ambient noise, goes, "oh no you ditunt!!!" In the obnoxious black voice..
Then deep in the corner, the cricket starts to chirp, and my beautiful wife, hangs up her shirt, And a flash from being a kid, I saw up her skirt, and the time I got hurt, while listening to Kurt.
What was I saying? You see? There it is. The ailment impales me I scream, "FUCKING SHIT!!!"
The thoughts jump from one, right to the next. Over and over, I feel like a wreck.
A ten car colission, smack dab in my head, its like going swimming,  with shoes made of lead.
Its Counter productive,  to say the least. Trying to tame an untamable beast, shit I just lost it. Fucking adhd.

Written by Intricate_B
Published
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