So, I see all those posts
About removing toxic people,
Beyond “your white picket fences”...
...and I wonder to myself,
“How’s my chemistry?
Am I a noble gas,
Or a caustic halide?”
Then, I see this other dialogue,
Claiming I need to be open
About all my life’s troubles,
‘Lest I slip into suicide’s silence...
...and now,
My faltering, fractured mind,
Can’t make sense of January,
And all the duplicity
Amuck in society.
I wonder if I speak
From an abandoned soapbox,
“Because we want to be entertained,
And not taken to task
To help those in need!”
Like the Beatles, but parody:
“I am Scrooge, You are Scrooge,
We are not together...”
Taking hostages,
Hoping for a quick fix -
Branded a lunatic
And scorned and avoided,
Like all the mentally sick.
Waxing in weird ways
And laying it on thick...
Drowning in a sea of anxiety,
Thinking, “what’s the use, anyway?”
And getting ever more morbid,
Hoping Death might me whisk away
From all this pain and turmoil,
So that I no longer need to
Be aware of the deafening silence.
Oh, I am going out to meet and greet?
“Let me put on my happy face...”