Interiority from Threnodies by Icholas Yurgh

My dithering has to end again
yet I’m still not on good terms
with the splits of the chimeric divisions of myself
as this dysthymic veteran
Prevaricator barricaded behind many fictions
Hopping in beds wearing masks and then pretending that I dig it
Have I lost control that’s something I’ve been known to do
At least to those unfortunate souls who have seen me unobscured

It’s a good thing I can divert

Obfuscate my pain then abrogate my sense of duty
Abdicating my responsibilities until I go totally unresponsive
The executive function goes bunk dysfunctions and bursts apart when I forget how to have fun

It’s no wonder I’m alone so often, I know I bring it upon myself
Does knowing that ever help? No. Does that help? No.

Fractals and whirlwinds, withdrawals and distortions
Interiority does not grant a reprieve from the burdens of making judgments
but instead, worsen those burdens

And with the birds overhead
Watching my legs slagged around like lead slugs
Led by the poisonings of my personality
Personally I feel fine, thanks

Community as definitely fragile
Homelessness of a particular strain
Delay as a flight away from the mundane, stagnant world of actuality
Entering rich potentialities of the inner worlds of thought, where decisions seem unnecessary

There’s so much less to carry

Results may vary

• Alternative
• Phoenix