I discharge ;
   a laugh without kindle
(not from the origin of tune
         and mastication)  
from an orifice of wound

a hack of mushroomy dry fleck :
the taste touches the back of the airways
  and takes to the brain in an ail

    ideas slurry
my actions blur
I fumble about my living space
my balance
        pained ears
fall to floor
      an ug at the back my throat
I laugh from all fours
    vision reddens
unhinged at the jaw
      my neck
shoulder muscles punting
my logged and leaden head lolling
   a laugh of hurt
a ******* of saliva
        detonates on the carpet
is there blood in that  ?
sickness on the verge
                 of being brutally provided

"So dramatic !"
my wife passes me a glass of fruit juice
                             and an aspirin
         preventing the transformation
                a gentle chiding

They came to me in
a febrile dream.
Whispered screams and
malformed limbs.
They wanted to drag
me to the hell they
came from, but I fought,
and got well.

They were too clear
I could feel the hate
The regrets
It felt sad and once I woke up
I feel sick

I am so sick that I feel
I am so sick that I hear
I am so sick that I smell
Sick of the patented experience

I am so insane I can read books
I am so insane I can converse
I am so insane I can see
Insane because of pseudoscience

I am mentally ill because of what I hear
I am mentally ill because of what I write
I am mentally ill because of what I see
Mentally ill because of segregation & isolation

I am mad because of audio software
I am mad because of video software
I am mad because of editing software
Mad because of channels & mixers in a studio

We are sane because of witnesses
We are sane because of kindness
We are sane because of love
Sane because of strangers

Love is an illness
The number one side effect
Caring far too much

sick and crumbling from sweated sheets onto the ground
i don't want to be found like this, don't want to be seen
cause my body's giving up, my weakness, it's so lame
keeling over in pain and illness, i say

"go away"
but i don't want you to go away
i'm afraid to die alone... hey
NO

I’m sick of being tired
Constantly on the go
Because if I don’t leave enough time for myself, than I don’t have to acknowledge that i’m not doing ok.
I’ll keep overbooking my schedule until I’m so far run into the ground
That all that’s left to do is place the stone.

Im sick of being tired
Every action dictated by a thousand various imagined world exploding outcomes.
None of which come true.
Because if I’ve thought of every single thing that CAN happen- I can’t be surprised, disappointed, or let down, when it does occur.
The last thread of control in my grasp
But my grip is growing weak.

I’m tired of being sick
knowing that something isn’t right and constantly trying to figure it out.
Like trying to find Waldo on the page.
Everything becomes a blur of colors, frustration grows, until, right in front of you all along, there he is, the mystery solved.
Until you turn the page.

And I’m tired of being sick
and continuously adding names to the list of people I feel I disappoint.
True or not
It’s rapidly growing.

I want to feel ok
But I don’t
I want my friends to think I’m ok
But I’m not
I want to break free from this circle
But,
Really,
I’m sick of being tired
And I’m tired of being sick