Being In My Head Is Like ....

from the inside looking out

it's what you see that i'm about

how i get lost and begin to doubt the names i feed myself

from the outside looking within

you know not how or where to begin

dissecting words to find bare bones' skin coveting denial

using the pretense of dense

i try to cover my tracks, a deliberate steadfast deference

at the expense of a mark uncovered, one letter at a time

this comfortable place where i struggle alone

keeps me weary and docile and humanity prone

it's the life that i've sown that leaves me blank and uncertain

behind my socket curtain, where i concoct

the denseness i choose to become unlocked

efforts go within myself, but to you i am still an illusion

i am twisting my thoughts to a braid

usually feeling unwelcome. i've overstayed

i tire back

to my seclusion, did not intend on intrusion

sorry

a word i over-use

apologies said for what deeds I'VE abused?

or think that i've shamed

myself in this life game, because i never learned of the rules?

i ask, is it me that is going insane?

as i've said,

i'm intense

at the

expense

of only myself

synapses scatter the insight

behind blinded eyes

second guessing,

feeling barren

yet, still, i've surmised

i am a beautiful model

for picasso's abstractions

in ALL

of my

extractions

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