your perception is an assembly line production at the refinery of colloquial truth

(prophet: “life is a butterfly”

me: “wtf?!!”)

 

supine and sleeping are you reaping dreams from peace of mind

i sleep sometimes but often find my dreamscape is unkind

labels lying underneath the fabric of existence

name calling nullifies their truth, arming your resistance

heap your labels, lies and fables i’ve better things to do

i’m not sustained at the table of arguing with you

 

i don’t believe that peace of mind

is something i will ever find

you may find it and that is good

but fire will burn more than wood

 

depression isn’t real she said just moments of reflection

but i do not trust anything from the brain’s detection

i feel what i have always felt without comprehending

your labels land creating welts, beatings never-ending

some days i dip, some days i dive, nothing bears repeating

we’re not equipped just to survive illnesses we’re treating

 

i don’t believe that peace of mind

is something i will ever find

you may find it and that is good

but fire will burn more than wood

 

and so i’m where i’ve always been: circumstantial sorrow

and everything around the bend will be the same tomorrow

just contusions of conclusions culled from limitations

all your spurious allusions are just imitations

i wish there could be more than this, a definite define

but just because it’s reprocessed does not make it refined

 

***