This repeat condition
Has me convinced
Ever since
Past tense became the pre*sent* norm
Presenting worn down sworn out epiphanies lost
At the cost
Of cutting out my own catagorized depressive eyes
Manic wild
And idled by the fact
That they only allow enough light in to tease
And not enough to shine and lead me out of this maze

But the scent of marigold promises
Promises to remind me
Why I'll feel my way blindly
Through this test experiment synapse mindless walkthrough life

Kindly

------Torn.

----< >----Apart.

And why my sight's deception is no exception
To the existance of the present norm so commonly displayed throughout.

So package me up in bottled regret
Label it "Gone to Shit"
And sell me off to the highest bid
Drink me up and defy tomorrow
Because I'm convinced
That these past tense epiphanies; lost;
Are as useless as these eyes I recently tossed.





I'm no better off than when I started all of this.