Under the Guillotine of Routine ~ Poem


I feel as crazy as he
Inside my neck
Under my feet
I feel as crazy as he
Who does not know
Why he feels crazy

Reality hits
At the least expected times
My life is in shambles
I am not in control.

A decent respect to the opinion of mankind
That they declare the laws
Which impel them to the separation.

I have separated from reality
I can put out my neck
Under the guillotine of routine
And the thunder of today
Not tomorrow
Or yesterday

But today of lack
Today of soulless burning
Today of impossible turning
When my insides have been turned against me
Today when I want out.

Figure it out and be done with. My dear.
Don’t sit upon me with your expressions of loss.
Don’t regret and torture me with your
Aggravations and consolations
I don’t want to hear.
I had enough.
I am full of it.
I mean, you are full of it.

I am full of regret.
I am full of mistakes. It’s true.
I am full of ambiguous statements and horrific accusations.
I am full of bi-angular rhetoric that paints a story of hate.
I am past the days when I feel normal.
I am past the days when I feel sane.

Did I ever?

Can I ever?

Will the inside me and outside me learn to discover who the real me is.

This poem was written close to a year ago, when the pressing on my heart got stronger and the only separation I could think of making was from reality. I constantly aim to find whole and to be one with my life situation. This poem depicts my recognition that something is terribly wrong.

In italics is the inner voice of impatience who really is not interested in what I have to say. This inner voice just wants me to move on with the day. He’s as cold as ice.

Battling the inner critic is my first step to winning the battle for sanity.


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