I am a drunkard of emotions,
swirling around in circles,
expected to cry words of wisdom
while I cling to the edges of conscious,
.
I am a prophet of pious proportions,
thunder crackles up in my head,
neurons against neurons playing
the song of my insanity,
.
I am born to hurt myself,
and mend all the bones I crack
by the absurdity of my notions,
applying salt to my wounds,
.
I am a sleepy monk of silence,
in meditation of my thoughts,
vain, egotistic, self-possessed,
clinging to the edges of self,
.
I am a coward of carcass speech,
playing trumps with the world,
tying the noose of binds,
across my saggy throat,
.
I am the one you sneer at,
the one who is strange, queer,
because I have embraced myself,
destining myself to a life of bane
.
Submitting the link for:
2. Poetry Jam
This is not a personal piece. Thank you.