Sanity

My cerebral stability is not a sure thing. I can see myself running naked down an airport runway. I can hear myself shrieking through padded walls. For so many people psychological security comes naturally. These people make eye contact without fear of vanishing. They sip tea from a glass and don't consider seppuku. I look at Mona Lisa and I wonder what her game is. I sulk in the corner and pretend I’m not invisible. My silhouette is more honest than I will ever be. My psyche is a seed buried beneath the soil of Carthage. Its battle is up a hill with pits to fall in along the way. There's something to be said for having to fight for your sanity. Epitaph, my ebook: http://www.amazon.com/Epitaph-ebook/dp/B00CCFQ9XS/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_t_2_TBDR