So many cracks in this world I see, How do I know If you’re really you, And I’m really me, When we’re stuck in this Distorted reality? What is real And what is not? This whole “reality” thing Sure is a lot. Dealing with these Distortions Puts a strain on the mind Of all members of Mankind. Take a look behind the curtain, You’ll see who pulls the strings, It’s not a god Or any of that sort of things, It’s a person, Like you or me, Forcing us into This distorted reality. We’ve been tricked into believing All that we do see, But in the end, it’s just a stranger Creating our well-known, Commonly seen… Distorted reality.

If I travel through a hidden door, I’ll find a land of cruelty and gore. Streets are gray and red, speak too loud and you’ll be dead. You won’t be killed, but dead in a different way. You’ll see the world through a distant gaze. The land is not a horror as it seems, just different as it is to you and me.

I looked in the mirror To find myself staring back At an old man In the 60s I took a nap And dreamt of a lake Where my reflection looked like a man In the 30s I was eating dinner And saw myself in the spoon When I found myself as a man In my 20s “What’s happening to me!” Was my last thought Before I fully closed my eyes When I felt myself turn into a baby I woke up with a hammering heart Looked at myself And exhaled a sigh I am in my world again Not a distorted reality My age and all Beauty or otherwise I am “Me” That’s such a relief!

I could taste the sweet in the voices my ears could swim in the vintage classic of hums You see these people are no longer here. A loan, no change I’ve borrowed time from another place A one way flight to one hundred years ago The currency of my fingertips on a screen I am witnessing a turbulence, The winds of ha’s and ooo’s My destination: Distorted reality Arriving in spiraling staircases, each step a twist in time A sound so reverberating legs in unison to the left and right My eyes paint the motions a canvas of notes smiling a soft hum as they’re closed The tip of my nose conducting the orchestra A heartbeat slowly tap dancing, My right toe drumming the air Head shaking, hips staying In bed dancing in the little crevices of rooms of my observant little mind Oh what a silly little joy An experience I have been a part of, Just fashionably late! Its a loud party For such a covert crowd.

Tomorrow will be better he said As he gripped his silvery cane He kept his walking stick close at hand Though his knee no longer complained Tomorrow will be better he said Looking out across the street he knew The friends he’d known now long since dead Their lives remembered by few Tomorrow will be better he said When his wife comes finally home Each winter stretched long the shadows That reminded him that he was alone Tomorrow will be better he said When his daughter comes down his street And replaces the flowers at his grave Then allows herself to weep

Wires loop and coil on my bedroom floor, and the head of the machine goes under and through - seeking out signals, tuning me like a radio. ‘What have you found?’ It talks in currents and jolts that summon images from the graves of my mind, and ushers them to my eyes where they parade themselves a carnival in the night, waves of faces I know balanced on bodies I don’t. ‘Where have they gone?’ It winds its way round my spine peeling off to enter my heart and makes me feel it all again.

But it's so much easier to ignore the pain. Bleed through those wounds that wear his name, just to ease my insane. My devotion has turned dry, it all leaked out; running from my eyes. Still, there's more to my knotted breath, than all of these lonely cries. For far too long I've been sleepless and disturbed. Quicksand like thoughts, aching and absurd. I carry our secrets in my pocket; my mirror image more than haunted. Tonight I'll sacrifice the demons he left in my chest. Once I cut them out, maybe I can finally rest... -HMG

I am trapped in a circus And I can’t get out. I am dancing to a tune I can no longer hear And the music is terrible And it hurts so badly And yet I cannot stop. I blink, And the crowd is laughing, I blink again And the crowd is gone.  I look up And there is only darkness I look back And all the light has faded.  There is a ring Around me A ring Or a stage And on the other side There are people Who do not Or cannot Care. Now I am on  A merry-go-round A toy Of the circus And it spins So quickly. The world Starts to blur A days and B days Mix together Rehearsals And homework And dreams Are inseparable And I’m spinning so quickly. But now the spinning fades, And in its place Is a dangerous stillness And I am back in the ring But the crowd is not laughing And I cannot tell If I’m crying Or dancing.  And look;  The crowd fades away The witnesses leave And cool metal Tightens  Around my wrists And neck. I cannot move But I need to stand.  I cannot breathe But death is impossible.  I cannot break free For there is so much to do. It grows so dark, When the tent Is quiet. The silence is deafening In a circus Without patrons And the performers Are monsters Which is why We are chained.  But another day dawns, And the chains fade away: I cannot run With audience waiting Strings tug At my mouth Until I am smiling My mind Grows numb And the audience As one being Is awed. The circus is spinning Faster And faster All fades away Into blurry routines Are we people Or are we machines White fangs On red lips Deadly claws Caress your neck Welcome O stranger To the circus Of my dreams.

Longing in my chest, Distorted reality, Ripping me to shreds. Tattered at the seams, Praying for just one quick fix, Never quite enough. Once upon a time, I had dreams and ambitions I gave them away. I played the victim, In the end, it’s all my fault. You reap what you sow. Now I stand amidst, Remnants of my yesterday, Shredded dignity. There’s no going back. Still, I faced the sun once more. I refuse to fall. Into the trap of, Distorted reality, For another day. Never will I be, A puppet on strings again. New reality.

I am Queen of Hyperbole No one exaggerates like me I am the best at overstating I’ll spend days elaborating I do not know of good or bad Only magnificently glad Or deplorably abysmal I only pour, I never drizzle When it’s nighttime I’ve gone blind But I’ll melt when the sun shines In winter I have turned to ice Each itch feels like a million lice I am not angry, I am seething One small cough and I’ve stopped breathing I’m either the most gorgeous thing Or so grotesque it’s disgusting If I’m ill I must be dying But when well I feel like flying You looked at me, now we’re in love You hate me since you gave a shrug I’ve never thought rationally You’ll find me sobbing constantly For I’m Queen of Hyperbole No one exaggerates like me