spilled ink.

anomaly

i look to the stars

and try to talk to God

wondering about this life He has given me;

i pick away at all my tales

and pick at my fingernails

and bury all my mysteries,

alone yet connected 

i have always felt demented 

yet-- drawn to purpose, like this life was meant to be.

i am alone inside my head

the stories I create cannot be put to rest

i am just an anomaly.