Author Information
NIMM
My mind slips,
are see through garments
of mental distress.
spelling out s.o.s.
in a laymens code of Samuel Morse.
Now not to beat a dead horse,
but these elusive thoughts
casting shadows on vanilla skys,
have my inner child feeling incompetent
asking questions that always invariably begin
with thousands of "why"'s
so simply put
that i feel guilty not being able to answer
so a generic non-gendered mental blockade
causes a fender bender
because i dont have enough mental wealth
to get a train of thought.
and mental health seems to have got the gout
swimming downstream like trout,
i'd like to go against the flow like a salmon,
spawn some seeds to remove the doubt
but it hurts too much to move or walk,
maybe i need some r&r.
if i knew what that meant i'd do it a.s.a.p.,
consult the f.a.q.,
f.y.i., i'd finally know what to do.
people are telling me "wysiwyg"
i hate these newspeak anagrams
its probably some n.w.o. type of thing
i feel like i'm transdemented
a sane person trapped in a mentally ill mind
lost in la la land where the lycanthrope are the inverted version of a versitile virile man.
stuck with the coo coos
where i'm so messed up that i'm actually normal.
like a spy thats doubled its agency so many times
that it losts its mission but doesnt seem to mind.
which is me, until the inner child start to cry
because he's growing up too fast
his childhood wont last.
and thats not right, so whats left?
a wrong turn for the worst.
i feel like my father now, slipping and saying
"i'll give you something to cry about!"
snapping my belt thats holding everything up.
so when it comes crashing down,
it will be me that the rubble is around
looking into broken mirrors,
seeing mirages of collages where happy memories reside
its getting too hot in here
maybe i need to let off some steam.
rest and relax, i'll do it as soon as possible
then i'll be able to answer all of my younger self's
frequently asked questions,
and for your information, i'd finally know what to do.
because what you see is what you get
and a new world order might finally be able to shift
us into the proper gear, of living without fear.
because when trouble comes
i'll be the big brother that appears
to wipe away the younger ones tears.
now the mirages are tangible
and there is a new form of language coming from my mandible
articulate and bombastic with not too many eggs in a basket.
i stole the clothes of the old me in the casket.
gave him the slip, and dont i look fantastic
in the new suit that i'm equipped with.
