Illuminate

"Hey, how are you?", "good how was your day?", talking to myself, that's just a game i like to play, stuck in this 6X6 cell, the ins and outs of everyday, so i spend my time trying to get myself to go away letting my mind go astray it's collecting garbage quickly like a writers ashtray, I know I'm going crazy but I think I'll be okay, no help in defeating the demons kept at bay, i feel oncoming loss, unshakable dismay looking for the control room or maybe just a fuse, thoughts of giving up, repeating "whats the use?", but i must find a way to turn it on, free my mind from it's recluse, so i can once again ponder the profound and obtuse running through the halls, walls in electric currents, trying to keep focused, writing for transference, I stop, collecting thoughts that are floating in my presence, finding all the words that will illuminate my essence.