patch

i don't even know what i am writing anymore
there's a bunch of sayings stuck in my zombie head
and they vibrate and echo like a dark distant doom
late nights like these are what make up my psychosis
when the fear engulfs and the positives flee
when i can't vouch for my future
where my calculations don't add up
where i'm struggling in those vacant porous heart of darkness passages
they say we find ourselves in our loneliness
they say it's the ebb and flow of life
and there's therapy in trying to write
but if it's therapeutic it's not nearly acrobatic
if i insure myself
don't i become just a spectator to life?
conformity killed a civilization
that's what the earth tombstone is going to read like
my soul isn't potent
so i just flicker with my wisdom
i can't lead a bunch
i only have an iota on sense