Spend your days searching,
Wading through dusty afternoon sunlight to find some trace of a purpose.
A whisper here.
A note there.
A glass full of acid burns as you throw it back.
Swallow.

Take your place at the center of the universe,
shrinking with your brain.
Dance with the stars.
Swim in the milky way.
It’s all on a platter for you.
Well congratulations.

Calm, cool and collected.
You radiate confidence.
Control. You live it.
A vile vial of amber liquid.
Throw the syrup back.
Warmth spreads.

Control of mind and body.
You’re adored.
You’re sure.
Power: it attracts.
It magnetizes.
People are pulled towards you due to
Envy?
Desire?
Awe?
You’re oh so sure of yourself, they know.

You’re searching and searching and searching for their ever-promised prophecies.
Turning up nothing but trash and doubt.
Stirring the pot,
You dream of reckless days.
Powders to control you and satisfy your every whim.
Careless people, careless actions.
You dream of desperation.
Of disaster.
Of the character it breeds.

Hell is better than limbo, than feeling nothing.
Your gestures of emotions determined merely by social cues-
Not all those silly little chemicals swimming in gray matter.
Perfection is boring.
Bliss is predictable.
Be broken, be cracked.
Destroy.