unravel me.
in the prosaic vocabulary
of my everyday life—
i’m so normal
it’s become bearable.

we’re all normal,
until we are not.

there’s nothing to them.
we’ll only be known
to others
by how others
portray us,
project us
into the world,
their world.
what happened to
the concept of

unfind me
in my latest thoughts.
confound me
through this littered maze,
raze my thoughts to
the ground,
won’t mind it if
my mind does
kill me.

we are all pretending
to be hamlet
contemplating existentialism.
get up and grow some balls—
let’s mindfuck our way
out of here.


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