Through the Rabbit Hole
Pull me back through the rabbit hole
and ponder the reality of these schizophrenic delusions.
Will my insanity be known?
Will my pain be your pleasure?
My tongue is sharp, acidic with deceit;
my mouth is corroding
and turns every word to dust and shame.
Pull me back through the rabbit hole
and analyze the coherency of my thoughts.
What in this rotting corpse of mine is standard issue
and what is defective mutation?
Am I succumbing to exhaustion?
These puppet strings strangle me;
my eyes are lucrative with hesitation.