I am

I am a drunkard of emotions,

swirling around in circles,

expected to cry words of wisdom

while I cling to the edges of conscious,

.

I am a prophet of pious proportions,

thunder crackles up in my head,

neurons against neurons playing

the song of my insanity,

.

I am born to hurt myself,

and mend all the bones I crack

by the absurdity of my notions,

applying salt to my wounds,

.

I am a sleepy monk of silence,

in meditation of my thoughts,

vain, egotistic, self-possessed,

clinging to the edges of self,

.

I am a coward of carcass speech,

playing trumps with the world,

tying the noose of binds,

across my saggy throat,

.

I am the one you sneer at,

the one who is strange, queer,

because I have embraced myself,

destining myself to a life of bane

.

Photo source

Submitting the link for:

1. Sunday Wordle

2. Poetry Jam

This is not a personal piece. Thank you.