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.