Trickz Of A Weary Mind

Paranoia isn’t a symptom for me,
But,
An enemy lurking within shadows I conjure on concrete shattered by,
Their darkness.
Farfetched it is not when I stomp as I walk without rhyme or reason.
After all,
I’m marked as a menace in plots set as my prompt for my loss of life to rise like a soaring Phoenix…

Perseverance.
A charm despised by an enemy who crumbles by the feet of Father Time.
And,
Nowadays,
I have all day!
To sharpen my sword for battle against every and anyone who would foster lies,
Before ever choosing to solder ties,
Through faith and loyalty unknown to monsters tied,
Between hurting others or hurting themselves with another somber,
High…

Cornered!
Yet,
My spirits are high for writing on pages no longer incinerated by the flick of a lighter eclipsing a night,
With nightmares one can only fight,
With a breath.
Letting it pass while soaking in the sweet sounds of its death.
Replacing every moment wasted from smoking with a shovel I use to dig through my chest!
To,
Plant seeds where new memories can grow instead of worrying about,
What I make up inside of my own head…