Also Mutants

Broken Knocks

7-8-17

The shrink says I'm having "stress dreams"
and I wonder if I should
ever eat again because there's
never a need for either
even if they're vaguely unrelated.
The only thing that saves me
is coffee, even though it
sometimes comes out of my fingertips
but it's the one vice I can
mostly keep down in a
manageable way since the
booze no longer agrees. And
that was the clear-cut go-to
when I needed to mute my
brain for days/weeks/months
at a time. Nowadays I'm
looking through cracked windows
and sunlight antidotes sicken me
because it brings out the worst
in the well-intentioned so
I'm internally aggravated in a
smile-colored package that's
fading with age and a failure to
understand          anything.
What good is trying when the
resuscitation doesn't fit the faint?
There is me...the confused answer
to the questions no one knows to pose.
And you can't let me in if I
can't find the means to come inside.