Reverse Psychology

Maimed and lifeless.
Hands overlapping either edge.
Leg crossed atop leg. Stretched.
Passive. Comforted by the fortress of my bed.  
Mind buried deep within itself.

No reason in particular.
Just dwelling, existing.
Somewhere...Deep...between,
Heaven and hell,
The beginning and end,
Immortality and death,
The scepter of the lord,
And
the devils pitch fork,

Looking into the ceiling. Deep.

Deep thinker,
A Mind which perceives deeper.
Thinking into mysteries like the teeth of Eve
Sinking deep in the fruit of the forbidden tree, way back in Eden.
Looking from a deeper perspective till I see from the eyes of the first sinner.
Analytical, Cutting shit apart with surgical precision, surgical incisions,
in search of a enlightenment. a meaning that's deeper.

Looking back in hindsight,
Like watching a biography in rewind.
Hard to follow, It strains my eyes.

Hard because its your story.
Hard, Because of  the battle scars you forced to wear on your body.
Hard because, even in victory there was never anybody home with whom to share your glory.

My father was never there for guidance.
Or anything else for that matter. Like,
He only had eyes for the woman inside his crack pipe.
Feeding the demons in his mind was the only priority in his life.

My Mother was there.
But she might as well, have not been there.
She was there only in essence.
But no where to be found in when in need of her presence
Though In her defense,
Its hard to be a parent when your the only one who gives a damn.

But as the child in this perspective I needed more than just a damn.
I needed a mothers bossum or a fathers lesson or just some sort of parental finger for direction.
With no flare in the sky or parent for guidance I grew myself into a man.
Analyzed and thought for myself.
Whether the decisions made were right or wrong, it was a learning path!
Cause in our house it was too big a burden to give a "parenting" damn.
Especially from where my parents were standing.

Maybe that answers,
All the questions in my heart and head.
Maybe that is the root and stem,
That made me who I am.

But alas,On a quest to find ones self,
Confusion has the last laugh, instead of enlightenment.
Which is far from funny having rewalked the self reflective path,
In doing so opened up old wounds and caskets of old corpses you buried in your past,
Along this path in search of self.

Cause often what happens,
Is just when the mind finds the answers...
The heart changes the questions.

Maybe that's why hindsight is so important.
To find the causes or problems that impregnated the womb of my heart and conscious,
to even conceive such a questions and thoughts...

Looking back from the roof...

Letting go, Free falling down to merge with myself
still just existing as ever.
Looking up from the bed, The roof goes back to blank
This is how I reflect and back track.

Projecting myself onto the to the roof/canvas,
I look back at everything from above,
in hindsight, back down into myself.
To walk a mile in my own shoes, from a different perspective.

Even though they say a doctor shouldn't diagnose himself