No One Wants to See You Lose Your Mind
Hands shaking, heart thumping out of rhythm
like a drummer too busy smoking dope in the woods
instead of practicing patterns like a good musician should.
Anxiety's got its hold on you, boy.
The stress is pulling your legs down into the cement,
& no one wants to see you lose your mind, but
that moment is long past overspent & they're disturbed.
They're disturbed because you didn't hold it in
when the temptation to wail like an injured coyote
overcame the pressure to conform into society's mold.
No, you're making a scene now, & the crowd is talking,
spreading their gossip about how you must be
some sort of stoned lunatic crying for a fix.
You're crying for a fix, but it's not the withdrawal
of narcotics making you tweak out in this matrix;
you want a fix for all the broken seconds come unhinged.
Someone's prepping the thorazine for you,
silence will come with a quick prick of the skin
& all this racket will have been for nothing
because everyone refuses to ever listen.