a portrait of mental health.

there's a light in the room somewhere
but you have to hit the switch 18 times to turn it on
off, on, off
and when it's on, instead of incandescence,
a barrage of berserk color erupts
and blasts you into bits

there's a light in the room somewhere
and it's perpetually out to get you
a knife concealed in the ankle
grenades strapped to its chest
you know it's after you
and every alleyway you pass
you scan the walls for its
deathly shadow

there are no lights in any room anywhere
in fact, even if there were one
it would do no good
to the treacherous abyss where you reside
hopelessness trumps all
and good dies young

there really is light in the room somewhere
and it's telling you
you're the crazy one.