Mind

a child questions his parent's faith, why ma, why pa did you choose that religion? and they nodded wisely at their lovely kid, because god exist and his name is blah blah. oh really, the enthusiastic child beams at the attention, how do you know that his name is blah blah? did he tell you?

a puzzle i thought solved, or that i had all the pieces that you withheld in your heart, the mind games played but you self deceived and that is benign

we both knew not the lines, because they say it is too complex and making vague helps. helps who? i wondered. flipping burgers is said to be simple, the mind games not so much,

it stinks, it is hideous, it is obscene though beauty is mirage at least that is how the narrative goes when truth matters not because truth has become perception gold flows, buys all

the spirits dwelling within made small talk like the skin tightening, relaxing as another mirror reflects back having similar interplay of relaxation then stress, when words fall on damp soil unable to grow.

mist everywhere, it is difficult to tell when the line truly is and the whispers are all around, each one sounding like it might be from behind, to the right, left, center till the mind becomes dull from too much, over stimulation but the light is all about, sometimes getting clearer, other times it seemed more like a trick of the eye, the mind wanders

why i told you so, and then now the puppets disobey the puppet master is angry

the world is larger than the head of a pin, the pin all i had known as a kid and to be told

Tic, the tic, again eye muscle spasms: not really for the mind is flooding with thoughts of all kinds, each box opened, a clown jumps out holding another box, another box

I fell, and what a fall it was though this is no humpty dumpty, it still hurts very much and I find childhood tales so close to truth, of life's experiences and growing up,