Mental Health Trauma Zone, where wellness went further wild and recovery was rabbid

The girl who thinks too much
Never thought enough
To think just enough
Opposite tones, clock chimes, questionable amounts of time 
How to even begin
to date a begginning?
My mistakes, my confusion abound!

A perfect decline
molds the day...
A constant slope of dissatisfaction
an explotation, an overdose, an intention, an exception
An unrecogizable, artificial
Modern dilution
A pace away.

Down again
Up plights, polite commerciality
Vulgarity becomes the pretty little pitiful me
So sweet I wanna throw it up
From grey lips, a parade of cartoons explodes in a the math of rainbow puke
I am the child of  Woody Allen and Timothy Leary
My mother was ink and paper fathered me
My family is the company who deforested the legacy of truffala trees
Autism is the norm,
I was warned
A road to independence
wilted innocence.
My doubt is rooted, collected as a toy trophy
I am pinned to live in surrender to the blossom of chaos
To be ripened bittersweet.
Encroaching soft moss
crossing my chess, choking my throat,
Bathing in ash.

I never was, but have been like a child
Like a innocent ghost, an age aged, housed in suffering
Encased by the mode, of an encoded nation. 
welcoming shamans to a war zone, to step in,
Abundantly well equipped, with love instead of binary transcriptions.
Fueled tragedy, ruined me
following a path in the sand

Buzzards
Who invites such vice
of panic and pain
Its the flute played
by the green skeleton, in vain.
Remember the fee of philosophy
neither one, won or defeated
I am restless, in a cemetary of intimidating concepts.
Unfortunates 'welcome adventure'
like luck is a changeable factor. 
...an corrupt era as hollow as ever.
Mine graceful gratitude, the sincerest endeavor.
Happiness shines like failure.
You no good, good for nothing.
Residing in insensibility
A advocate of validating hapless
Helplessness.
The loss you have, does not leave.
Pipe dream, bigger then a Cadillac.
Blank except for vanity.
that begets loneliness, befitting the choices
Preserving anguish.
loosing a chance for peace.
Speckled with the filth of poverty.
Slowly,
Growing quit sewn
in a quilt of silence
Fabricating violent voices
set for riot!
Purity pursues though,
Reality, less then acute.
Suspects set the stage for a vulnerable play.
Redialing to call forth insanities, and select a few stains to clean.

Ask me how I took my coffee yesterday…
I took it personally, I think I’ll say.
And then it’s fermented tea till nine, a drink too divine to swallow…
I plan this loneliness ahead till ten p.m.,
though the unexpected rush eventually sets in.
Today isn’t special,
splattered by coffee despite my attempts to not be sloppy.
The hint of the scent of cigarettes
all over my body,
that’s the kind of smoker I am.
A few precious hits, and then it’s time to split.
Walk through the rest of the day…carrying these stains
with no hopes to get them out.