the art

its funny how we're meant to be
so lonely,
but so full of happy,
why is it that I attempted me,
but lost in my own tracks and tied that rope to that one tree and never looked back
just like how you are imagining at this very moment
I never looked back,
I never looked forward
in fact I probably never even looked at the ground to see my own two feet stumbling on the surface, discerned, and concentrated,
I was looking into the clouds, the shapes were my symbolism,
I once saw a dove made from the cotton like balls of liquid that somehow float in the sky?
Water floats?
I guess there are things I'll never attempt to realize, even with all the education smashed into my forehead, but
give me an Ecstasy pill and I can smash it right back out of my forehead and then some.
So tell me, as this tie dye shirt is being spun in circles, and paint is being splurged together, how does it become almost the same as every single other shirt we attempt to make original,
lemme add more colors, maybe it'll make a difference.
Lemme throw in the color black, this last time and watch the shirt fade to gray
finally douse some bleach and turn it back pure, like religion, and in fact how is it possible to steer steady when the demons perch on my wheel and sway back and forth sending me to the cliff that dangles a trillion feet above a needle point, that wont damage me so long as I have my chain-link body armor on, but my eyes will not be protected still, so hopefully I fall backwards into sanity that brings me more wisdom, which sends us into another vortex of insanity,
I hope you're listening, instead of reading, because it doesn't make sense, not as much as the many things sent to make perfect trails of time bombs, tick tick tick tick tick, tock
BOOM
you just lost you're eyesight and my story will continue even if you cannot.