wanderful wondercrust

i wander
lost
seeking familiar faces
but the skin
is stretched
deforming
former friendships

do humans molt
like snakes
shed themselves
leave wan skinsleeves
for new malevolent spirits
to inhabit?

it must be hard
being friends with
or goddess forbid
falling in love with
an unnatural disaster
a shaken cocktail
of chemically imbalanced
bipolar surges
sloughing away
failing flesh
manically depressed
depressingly manic
beyond the ken of
mortal understanding
talking to these
illstuffed skinsuits
unable to reckon which
one of us
is the demon in this
concussion of
irrational thoughts

i am god’s unhappy
mistake
talking softly to
malformed mimeographs of
people i thought
i once knew
lost and alone
crying little flames
to burn away
the stubble of another
miserable morning

i am not lost
i just have no clue
who it is i am
supposed to be
trying to tear off
this ill fitting rot
and expose whatever
new hell lies within

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