The Mad Hatter's Table

I suffer from a chronic unzipping
And I can tie my jacket open as well.
I saunter with my shoes unlaced,
My hair wild as savannah grass

I dream in black and white.  Memorizing shadows.
My colorless eyes, like misshapen buttons,
cross with an “x.”

My arm are tangled with yours, about you,
skipping to the tune, “La Folle et Le Fou.”

I am insignificant as a lowly insect
A cockroach perhaps.
Yet my soul, it is as vast as the Milky Way
With the strength to hold up the world by a piece of twine.

But then again, just as empty.
I am a corpse of puzzle pieces,
formed in hues of red, black, and gray.

My heart has stopped ticking, like the bomb
That has detonated and exploded all time.

Exhales and inhalations continue, how? An enigma to me.
It gallops like a mob of androids, stuck in the glue of routine
I would prefer spontaneity.
If only an escape was an option.

I dance with monsters that hid beneath my bed,
Feeding them tales and poems for dinner.
Saving my flesh, for another day.

I sleep in a hammock made of a spider’s handiwork,
And enjoy his charm, laugh, and stories.

I am a lock with no key, a map with no compass
I stand on the edge of the world with arms outstretched.
Curious as to if I would jump, would I fly, or fall to my death?
Would you catch the heart that I have lost?

I beg you mad hatter,
Share your tea with me.
At you request,
I am fit to sit and join you at your table of insanity