questions...
how do you cope
with the gnawing hunger in your soul?
with the realization that
nothing is as clear as it seems
and nothing seems clear at all
with the tides of murky truth
lapping at your ankles
with the threads of the self
as they bind and scratch and fray
like old rotten rope
with the sense that
miasma and rot cling to everyone
you have ever shaped
with the dread as
each splintered moment reveals
your last chance to change
with how trite
your derangement sounds
spoken aloud
and with the fear that
everyone who has understood
will leave without you