I don’t feel right
I can’t be normal
an alien in another’s skin —
how uncomfortable at times
I see myself needing
I see myself performing
I watch the satisfaction of each urge
depressed (only) momentarily, popped
deflated pimple, red, temporary
embarrassing, addictive
craving will resurface, a monster
people argue its existence — Loch Ness —
but the lie lays bare before us
recognized or not
so, it is with robotic sensibilities
I feel myself refuse to yield
to another pointless pleasure
and instead feel pain!
which I know is not the way —
but how else will I recognize
when I am being led astray
if not by monitoring such deceits
especially harmful, discovering
my own mind is the evil
that haunts me
The Halfwit Writer 