Within the walls of the ones who are
Broken and all we try to do is fix.
The ones with gears working
Backwards and we don’t try to understand.
The ones that are angry
For being happy, laughing at
Nothing- stare into space.
They believe what we don’t
Know. It comes to them, without thought
Maybe you don’t have to think-
Just let. Go, sanity, the anchor.
Within, heave up and hide it.
We lift sail, too-
The open seas of the unconscious.
Smile, you catatonic bastard.
You’re making your own world;
You’re now god.
I found the birthplace of creativity.
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