Smelling Salts

Just give me a dose

So I don’t overdose

Forget it

Let me comatose

Crochet my fingers into a rope

Mind locked its self behind the door

So how can I get out

Let me win

I’m stuck

Throw the sheets over my only motive to live

Give me a dose

So I don’t overdose

The mind says overdose instead

Hands shake when

I pick up things

Even a cup to drink

Fabrics drenched in Arabic coffee

Warm

Opposed to hot like I wanted it

I left it sitting on my table for to long

Eyes like rockets fuel burning

Under smoke

Trying to get a taste of a second hand

Slapped away

I don’t want your created pavement

To curl up on anyway

Give me a soft couch Cigarette in my mouth

Comfortable

And a small dose

So I don’t overdose

Stopped searching for the lost lists of me

Indeed I be the unholy

I know it

Sometimes to bold to be told

I have only days to live

Without cancer

I’m the cancer and a council

Of councillors in my surroundings

Funny how I can be a councillor yet, I can’t council me

Can’t nobody

I can’t use myself to cure

What I am

Or nobody

Placad at my face values like valumes

Antipsychotics

Together

Then face my low values

Phrase it to graze on my

Pains immortality

I battle with everything, anybody

People just don’t understand

You couldn’t ever understand a person like

Us

So stop

Persons like me just need

You to not

Just be there to hold

The mental and grow

Pleaded no sympathy

Fractures the light that once to glow

Just listen to me

Whenever I ever

Need the me time to wait for our time

Speak in a small dose

Because to be honest

I’d rather just overdose

Then to be told

I will be ok

Just give me a small dose of

Being there

Walking In Cracked Palms

Farewell…

The climate changed to alright…

Love the naked trees…

Stripping out of there bright leaves…

Exitic dancing…

Waves of  wind chanting…

Ancient hymnals…

On the backs of golded wind chimes…

 

Feel free to chime in…

In the world…

I really only live for two things…

A handful of real family…

To a history discovering the truths of…

People, places and things…

 

The bright red raven…

Burgandy eyed…

what’s it’s name?

In deep love with the…

In eyes of mine…

Spiritual body’s that..

Interests me in shapes of glow…

In my dreams I stay wulk…

 

I understand…

The intensity of how individual…

Human minds work…

All five points of tunneled vision…

I can see…

What they love, fear and hate…

Venting to passionately wait for…

Whom or what…

When your stuck…

Anxious or crush…

Fighting or catching a flight…

Real or fake…

More and more…

 

This joke calls me crazy…

I call crazy a joke…

Dont take note……………

This is strictly off the record…

Maybe even make believe…