Everyone’s bipolar, he says,
and reductio ad absurdum easy,
as if insanity is imperative,
unremarkable as brown eyes
or blond hair,
and we, drying tears from our vision
crave the pain dosed away
with prescription pills
plump with placebo crap. Sure,
we’re all damaged some ways,
pitch(ed) out broken metaphorical windows
into a world where assembly is required
but we’ve lost the instructions
and instead of a life, we build
a collapsing scream.
My words were paradox, crap, collapsing, scream, pitch, imperative, damaged, drying, preaching, and assembly.