one card short

I have found myself trapped within a paradigm of listlessness and confusion.

I have painted quite a picture on the canvas of my life.

Ruins emerge in the likeness of Frida Kahlo meets Robert Johnson.

Dripping, little, twisted bits of reality transverse themselves down the neuropathways of my mind.

Some are so corroded and warped that they only cause repeated misfire.

I cannot see or understand the road that lays ahead of me.

I can only pray for  freedom of pain  that my own mind haunts me with.

I need a distraction from the daymare ghosts.

They’re dropping tiny seeds of sadness in my head that grow in my heart.

Turn off the noise, it’s deafening me.

And you just sit there smiling as if all is quite fine.

Can you not hear me screaming?

Can you not see what lies behind my eyes?

My spirit is uncalm and wanting for calamity