crazy
in polite societys eyes...perhaps
not damaged or morally lost
just set apart
just lost in thought
rough angles rubbed soft
I yearn to wander
& begin to feel
alive in my own matted fur
once again recognizing the face in tha mirror
not high, enlightened
each excess with purpose
pain evolves into pleasure
unbind myself in tune with a deeper rythm
content to be a speck of dust in tha universe
looking up from yesterdays primordial mud