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My mind is a world with its residents curled in hiding til unfurled they bind me, they take the light just to blind me and I can no longer find me. This is not sanity, can't be reality, its just absurdity on every side of me, so do not confide in me or this society, gods not our deity he's a celebrity An idol if you will, directing morals still, when no one knows what's real, he tells you how to feel, and you pick up the bill for all the overkill I do not walk that path, though I may feel his wrath, I'll face the aftermath, they'll call me psychopath for my verbal bloodbath but religions not my thing, I just go with static cling, listening to the birds sing and waiting for future stings hoping to hear the faith phone ring. I don't look to the past, no need for the contrast, til it hits with a blast and knocks me on my ass, sorry for being crass. I do not write this often, the words, the blows they soften, I'm writing from this coffin, that I've somehow been locked in Some call it writers block, seconds tick off the the clock, it comes to me in shocks, as I pick my brains lock, to hear my true mind talk.