81

Every cell in my body
trappped in a knife fight
my love of life is broken
nightmares in the night
sweatily awoken
from a material sleep
now my vision is swarming
with rat like-monkeys
trading the trees for streets
littering the world in receipts
everything is off
smells funky
and when night comes
something I try to summon
so I don't have to see
another sun as it etches
this horrible vision
continuously into me
my imagination stretches
trying to find new reasons
to see more seasons
this mistaken world
no one alive or creeping
really worth keeping
scarecrow, stitched up smile
in a dead field
with everyone partying wild
having a good time being sane
if I only had a brain
maybe I could join in
with all the vomiting
and loveless gromiting
crows my only friends
keep their distance
I have thirty two masks
none of them seem to fit
maybe I'll make a new one
out of plastic glass
a palace for frogs mourned
slimey blue-green prince
a soggy crown adorned
my kingdom anhedonia
I must be the child
anti-eros and anti-psyche
that sounds just like me
tired of asking why I'm alive
what's the point
after all this time
I've run out of all my favorite lies
it's wearing so thin
this human's disguise