Argued Blue

Someone's world this is, in which I hide. Psychitzophrenic hues the color blind. Sticking pins through living butterflies. Wringing hands wash nothing but themselves. My fingers find the holes outside my head. Electric shocks my system, I am held. Pacing back and forth I'm borderline. Sex when I was young was on their mind. Bracelets made of leather they were brown. Astringent smells inhuman yells there is no sleep. Buckled down the gurney in the hall. I am filled with shame the bed pans full it shows. Golden hues of Autumn fill the melancholy air, bright brown eyes that read the catcher in the rye. Pink the book I see Xaviers Hollander, the happy hooker, on the bench when she was all of twelve. And the rest just like a wave it comes and goes.