Novacaine

Inside of my head,
My Mind,
My Being,

A whirling tornado flings common sense from me,
Trying with all its might to throw me off course,
On the simplest of things.

I see another world dance by on the screen,
I dream of some higher purpose in life,
Some reason,
Some passion,
Something, anything.

I feel I am trapped in my body,
Some mythical creature bound and tied,
In this poor excuse
Of an existance.

It drives me insane,
Insanity, it seems, is my last outlet,
To become the white picket fence
And the whisky in the top drawer
All at once,
The Keeper, and the Destroyer.

Somewhere, the worlds collide.
Fold over each other, bend and twitch
Into place, where my soul rests,
And sleeps for once.
Where vampires wander deserted plains,
Dragons scorch the sky and the sand,
Where werewolves are the last unknown,

My mind wanders there from time to time.

I cannot pull it back,
I am losing my focus in dreams of
Passion
Lust
Reason
And power,

Therapy.
The cocaine of the middle class.