Strangest place found within me.
I remember I shook so hard I thought I'd break.
God spoke to me in the cave-like cliffs of my forehead's third eye.
Bed was a good time to pray but I was touched.
When I awoke, six where there in the stead of His glorious place.
These greasy, soul sucking, skin touching and crawling parasites.
Those dark ubiquitous faceless voices.
The higher the dopamine the more hell you'll take.
Vividly I can recall the last day of my sanity.
Now,I'm just not the person I was.
A newfound atheist who in retrospect was always school to think straight.
See, I shook when god spoke.
New breed of zealots have arrived.
It's saviour is the medicated normal.
Do not be ashamed.
Pop that pill.
In the minds fall, not everything stays lost.
YOU ARE READING
Salad Days
PoetrySad poems from sad and angry times. Written from a juvenile time (14 years old) to older. That's what you get when you leave a teen to ponder reality. A pen hits reality harder than high school survival. Original Art from Vivianne Rheaume
