Static

Watch me interfere with something spiritual
creating static so severe it’s
creeping in my inner ear so frequently
the frequency becomes pinnacle
to fabrication of my miniscule
musings of individual new things
to which i’m integral
it’s pitiful
My saliva oozing in truth but it's always
Minimal
Protect my brain with the thinnest  skull
At least I thought so but the padlocks
have never been seen at all
and it seems I've grown into a new phase of distraction  
Leaving me comatose in traction
you live  new lives in Space
fools time
I count the minutes with the digits of my fingers until I lose my mind
grew spine
So it might seem
Like I'm writing
All the right things
But really I'm
just cynical