I know not your name
For you arrive like a rush of blood
Spilling meaning upon paper.
Dry is the ink
Defining my mind’s imprint upon corporeality.
Dead is my natural pose
Above a laptop.
I know not your purpose
You, however, presume to know my own
Shouting words within my hollow whole
And threatening my soul’s duality.
Receptive to all sententious prose
-A figure of speech
MY RESPONSE TO HEAD SHRINKERS
You can silence me with pills
Deafen me with therapy
But, as long as I can think
I shall always be myself