Fracture

I've seen beautiful before. I've seen you on the inside a time or two, a nice place to live that I guess no one can afford. Today I see this little world from a different light.. (Cliche, I know) maybe it is just an angle that differs? Or maybe it is a concussion. A fracture to the infrastructure of my existence, my head or my heart? I don't know which one. Colors and objects standing still only mock me, like they have more of a right to be here than I do. And the particles and knots of wood and stone that stretch around my head tell me that they know more than I do. Am I really nothing like they say? Tip-toeing around, my movement only complicates things... I'm fractured. Please tell your demons to stop mocking me?