My Forlorn Place

bereft and afloat I travel aimlessly without my own thoughts my mind is mush no accident I have landed here I always come back to this forlorn place have you taken your pills? What good are they without a mind how can they be digested when imagination is prancing over the hill to the south? I want the voices to shush let me enjoy the squalor let me revel in my dire strait personae the voice reappears I slam my feelings down hard but not soon enough Irritated that I always come back to this place.