Thoughts arranged like tall grass, unkept and unmowed,
I was told about the confusion and proceeded anyway.
Hot paraffin hurts at first then protects the fingertip,
refusing to dip gets you left behind,
you slip back away just a little bit.
My full throttle left-handed attempt at life misfired, of course,
dumbly placing one foot in front, then the other.
I will not be so easily fooled again, I say to hope, disappearing;
sinking down till I enjoy the self-pity
to scratch our names off the most common lists.
An unlikely twist of providence embraced my attackers,
my logic, dismantled, becomes vinegar in a wound
as the same forces that lifted now undo me, mocking,
spouting the casual truths later easily proved wrong
while unnamed hands pick my pockets.
What a bastard fool Integrity is, losing ground,
humbled yet again by some schemers connive.
I pried apart small grievances till infection set in
making even the sweetest violin turn shrill, then distorted
till the air itself had the jagged edges of my frustration.
You were so coldly keen on settling it.
Attacks flew elliptic around me, rude dangerous harpies,
no time for proper defense to be mustered,
eyes and heart and brain can no longer be trusted,
they all believe that I still love you.
No one simply starts to live; we cannot force contentment
while resenting the things we do not have but think we need.
Restful spirit is not produceable by magic,
yet we curse and conjure as if were,
and the asylum beckons ever more enticingly.