non compos mentis, words

the dishes are stacking up

at any minute i expect a cockroach uprising

three bags of overflowing garbage

but when i walk outside the clouds talk to me

not directly to me

but out loud

the voices rattle through the pipes as well

in the walls

from under the furniture

i am out of towels

stuffed them under the couch so when i doze off they shut up for a few precious moments

i tried to do the dishes

i did

but a butter knife grabbed a fork and tried to stab me in the hand

i think

not sure

might have been a spoon

i was a little shaken

tried music to drown it out

but all the dead musicians started talking to me about the afterlife

said i should have killed myself at twenty seven

after that it is all down hill

it’s not too late

hard to snap an mp3 in half

i’m a little scared


you know


because they make sense

the television keeps turning itself on

i unplugged it a week ago

it plays old horror movies

black and white

and the victims are always my friends

my family

and they always look at me with dead eyes

and ask why i did this


and then the wolfman or vampire rips them in two

and smiles at me

it’s your fault

you did this

i may be going crazy

non compos mentis

not in my right mind


or at least that is what the pillow says

i agree


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