Act II

So maybe I realize
my minds weakness,
in an abract form at least,
are more about and aware of themselves
than I am of the beast
If only things had been different
made a left instead of a right
picked to fold instead of fight
I should have stayed
instead I left right away
I know now that the safety net of sanity
becomes to entangled when entwined
within the arms of another companion
it binds itself and makes knots and nots
until finally it snaps and all you are left with
is a web of unidentifyable strings,
incomprehensable knots
and as it falls down into the dirt
the whites that made it so pure
become brown and blacks
leaving the mind nothing to fall back on
when all things belonging to the norm
become bastardized and unreal
This will be my end…

Newer faces and brighter lights
blind me with unknown fear
of what is at the end of the light
I try to walk to towards it
but soon realize I am still,
at least in the physical sense, alive
but to what extent is the inquiry of my world
welcome to my world
I wake only to find my bed soaked
in sweat and urine, and nightmares
from the night before
I rush to move from the cold
yet I am immobile
or do I not want to move
maybe I am not trying hard enough
or trying to hard
I let myself lie in the dampness
that I called home for the night
I seem to care only when
it is not meaningless
when noone cares
and when it is goshe to do so
but I don’t care about that
this is how I know I am awake
In my dreams I am valiant and courageous
and yet they all end with me falling
I wake just before the impact
and then I am a coward,
the faggot of the economy,
a beast of religion,
I think it’s safe to say noone likes me
but who can blame them
I don’t like me
if you could see
what I believe
how I am unclean
what I have seen
would you like me
you wouldn’t let me be
They say I dress erratically
I wear what I have
they say I need help
they never offer to so
they say I scream at people
they mention not how they torture me
but I cannot say this to anybody
I can not publically speak ill of my neighbors
This will be my end…

So one day,
in the midst of my normal sadness
figures in white flew around me
laughing, giggling, having a great time
but I was not involved
they held me down
tied down my extremeties,
in an uncomofrtable fashion,
as if to hopefully persuade them to finally fall off,
they have mentioned so before
they have been planning a mutiny against my mind
for control of course
and in a flash I am before a man in black
wooden hammer in hand
They say they appoint lawyers for criminals
I had not the good fortune to be a criminal
I orated to them my most moving off orations,
argued my best arguements,
explained my best explanations
and ended up here
I most have gone wrong somewhere
This will be my end…

The walls here are made of clouds
they feel nice
I like it here
I can scream and sing at the top of my lungs
and the thank me for doing so
they get me high everytime I sing
I sing a lot
they say they will let me out soon
I would hope not
the world outside these huggable walls
are not ready for somebody
with a mastery of their mind
they say I crushed
under the weight of my own genius
like Hemmingway they say
what an honor to be compared to that old coot
I sleep, peacefully, no dreams
no falling, no impact, no sweat,
just rest
for days and days it seems
until one day a man in a nice grey suit
comes in and shines a light in my eyes
he says I am fine
they let me out the next day
I am scared with a case full of my memories
and my sanity net wrapped around my neck
like a tribute to the bedlam
I go the only place I know where to go
hell
This will be my end…