As I step outside myself to see the light,
My mind’s inner eye open in second sight,
I glance around the jagged room,
The laughing solipsistic shadows loom--
They poke translucent fingers into my brain:
Reality and virtue to the clinically insane,
Existence is frayed, never to mend,
The galaxies of neurons shiver and bend,
As I float through the ceiling and roof,
Into the sky, deranged and aloof;
The clouds they look like cannabis leaves,
Growing and dying, my consciousness heaves
In artificial inspiration found in a vapor,
Lost in my own world, and scribbling on paper.
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