Where is my Sledgehammer?

I’ve built this asylum of sweet oblivion
covering copious cerebral contusions
screening out photographic dimensions
of a world too filled with sweeter delusions

I’m paranoid; Picasso had it right
when I see the patterns sparkling
throughout a monochrome 2D
air and light still
I zoom into whirled directions

Apparitions, I smile
when I say I will explain it to you,
I mean it and it is simple,
listen, I talk in circles
no cylinders
whispered rhomboids whistling
wistful wonderment and reasoning
radiant ruminants
ridiculous
It is clear to me how it works, properly with logic
not this ludicrous nostalgia
of propagated pollination
implicating situations
synergetic
hush now, I know what I am on about
I’ve nearly synthesized these ramparts…

It is just the hydrogen diffusing
the molecular confusing
an atmospheric kaploosy

…as my evidence goes kaput
before I’ve finished with its presentation
I’ll worry, when I’m the only one who noticed
and agonize when I’m not;
It is so terribly worse to realize
none of this is of your imagination

One item I have observed,
as I laid my saccharine bricks around,
truth be preserved
where stupor of consciousness is found:
when truth be the lies that obliterate
thoughts of coherence
too utterly great