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I Thought I Knew

I thought I knew who I was,

but I guess I really don't.

I've been riding on this

roller coaster of

pleasure and pain

since before I can remember.

The dreary walls of my

room serve as a reminder

of just how small

the world can be.

Please, someone tell me

I'm not insane...

Who cares what there is

to see in the world

when you can't get out

to see?

Is it even there beyond your

own eyes when you

can't be there to gaze?

Who cares about the

LSD saturated purple haze!

Which world is the truth

and which one is fake?

Confusing images assault

my mind, flipping and flitting

like obvious forms

of chaos and birds

committing suicide in


Every summer, 7 and 10,

they plunge and meet

their deaths again.

Why can't the birds stay

in the sky?


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