Vii.

an abnormality, an outsider the fractured language spoken and misunderstood  the warped reflection I take in the eyes of everything  of every beautiful thing I yearn to touch the distance between you and everything. I want deliverance from this reality  its cold calculating cannibalistic touch its fucked up bleeding on the side of the street indifference, its whitening and violent exposure.  pulling at the scabs of flaws till they blister till they cannot be hidden, grotesque to the bystander   there is no balance between the isolation of the recluse, and the cage of the socialite. In duality I fall into my human failures, they wait for me. the gods of the city are not mine.