Crossed Wires
Amazing agony
of years to what degree?
Pain is a comfort,
for it bears the fruit of tears
normally stifled by life.
People have me
up against walls,
avoidance
a social disorder
made by their design,
unable to detect
their motives of dishonesty.
I hide my hearts sleeve.
Living in an acid trip of fear
trances dominate my brain.
Wires crossed
haphazard,
relapsed today
and yesterday
this whole past month
a blur...
as are countless years.
Trying to focus
on the words heard,
find their meaning
keep it all straight.
My hand brushes
the hair from my eyes,
and I'm told
they're just seizures,
seizures that make you write.
My tears disagree
shaking my head
no that can't be true,
because I love to write,
deceived again.
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