Combed grass and shattered leaves Broken needles and cracking knees Bundled in jackets and worn out sleaves _My _world is a palace _I _cannot leave

Water sloshes _my _socks, it feels like honey A thought caked in time and kind of funny But the welts and spite threatens the chummy- Ideations I hide to keep food in _my _tummy

Discomfort is temporary and “they seem just fine” Jumping and frolicking, no call to whine A procaline spread awaits them; a shrine A cockany of bustling, bumbaling mimes

For life is perfect when you’re left unaffected By a world thats not crafted to keep you infected _I _blame not myself but the ‘people’; directives Who make quite a scene and declare _I _was “REGECTED”

For _I _freeze in the warm I’m not meant for the cold But the dire weather has made me bold

A flu like feeling is all i am left with For the life I have “chosen” was endlessly deceptive Sworn freedom at the price of pure self-relience A philosophers dream, a fools best kept science

So I coo in the face of this rotten mold _ I _hold in my lungs a Cheshire gold A filet of bone, a platter of old; Dead and dying, flesh sold-

To the highest bidder - from years of endless wanting I escaped from a cage built by paraless hunting - Envy is my great escape. But in a body that’s shaken, I must break; a slate. A tongue woven as bate. Lunges dried by hate.