There is a place. There, is also a place.
A place, is over there, which is a also a place.
Over there. Not here, get away!
Go away, shut up. Close zip and lock it
Up up up so you can't argue!
Far away and silent, is a place I dislike.
Hard to get away from, it's almost a job in itself,
and within itself I find myself occupied, preemptively,
with my in-shambles self-image, preoccupied by reconstructing
a crumbling mess of myself I wouldn't like us to see.
Let us ignore that part, the us part, for that implies multiplicity
but there's us in my head, we are both us and I am still me
but me still you and me no caveman.
Is it a disorder on its own? This, disorderly maladjusted remedy
for my disorderly maladies and I think I might be a bit crazy, but just a pinch.
Not a bat-shit bad ass, holy flying fists of fury batman, crazy, kind of way.
The way of my kind is more akin to a kind with a different reality.
What even is real, when my blue is your green and your blues is my happy and my green