Unhinged

​It seems so real these shadows they find me in the dark
I’m just a figment of a troll’s deepest, darkest secrets haunting me so terribly I hide from the amount of stress caused by this terrible troll’s nefarious state of mind
It’s a sinners state a backwards reality where humans and monkeys coexist and we’re walking up walls and pogoing on the ceiling
Line up to come down, be carried on the back of a vulture, fly high in the sky as you wonder, oh how you wonder, why the day is so bewildered
The night is dark and the day is dim I lost my mind when my first friend died; I became complacent and fearful and I hid from the sharks
Sometimes we know we know everything, other times we think we have a lot to think about, and finally I ponder about my ponderings          it’s such a wonderous world when you actually have the ability to wonder
Oh goddamn, I’m lost in a daydream again all the time I’m lost in a whirlpool of thoughts I’m convulsing in the torrential buzz of this thing and that thing so sometimes I smoke weed so I can focus on something else, worry about nonsensical worries and, so focused I delve into a tremor
I’m not sure about anything anymore, like who invented boredom apathy & depression, who dreamt up a magical state of being jaded, feeling lost and alone and the only way out might come from a conscious prick
I lose my faith when people gain too high of a faith that they must conquer my own faith with their gospel
I surrender my face more times than not     I’ve fallen into a pit of quicksand and they tell me that this is no way to fuckin live but I’m stuck here and I can’t pull myself out of it
Beating my brain in a productive manner is my means to surviving I’ve unhinged a theological tantrum from the top shelf otherwise chained to a toothless grunt
Why can’t I get better because I’m trying to surrender, I want to become one with the universe but I’ve fallen too far astray and the only way out comes from a prick of self-confidence
Pick me up to knock me down I’ve lost control of the pen and all my thoughts have spilled out; what’s there left to do when you have nothing to do but scream at a wall that doesn’t listen and pound your fist at a sky that doesn’t care
Because I’m better than this, my emotional state whirls to another, whips around my noggin so ugly and rotten I scorn those that have made a choice because for me this is a lifestyle     this is my saving grace     life is just a dream and at times I feel so bitter     this is the spirit that has carries me through the darkest of dungeons and for better or worse I’m okay and I guess I’ll always be okay