Haven’t written in months
Been too busy counting
Psychosomatic symptoms
Staring at white matter
Prodding at my body
Like a neurologist on crack
And the doctor tells me
I am obsessive compulsive
That I gotta take these pills
Or else I’ll end up in the nut house
Like pharmaceuticals thrown in my gob
Are gonna save me
Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors
To close my third eye
Something to make living
In a sick society less sick
And I tried to beat it the natural way
Thought bathing in soil
Would bring me back down to earth
Turns out it’s deficient in magnesium
And my body vibrates towards cliff edges
On the daily
And the internet tells me that I’m dying
Tells me there is disease in my blood
So I get lost in the world wide web
But all I really want to do
Is get found in the world
Found in the space between
Where my hot tongue and
Western culture’s cold shoulder


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