i didn’t
know
who i was
for so
very long
because
i was
always
someone
different
i didn’t
know
there was
something
off inside
that
made me
chase clouds
always
seeking
some magic
a miracle
that could
satiate
my ever
changing
desperation
it took
too long to
recognize
the pattern
the shifts
to see
normal people
only felt this
momentarily
it wasn’t
natural
it was
irrational
if i were
to function
in any way
i needed
to spill my
irrationalities
into poetry
slice and
cut and stab
until it all
bled out
and then
hide the
crimson rorschach
before seeing
the image as
i pour out
the next
turned out
the real me
is those
manic declarations
what is left
is nothing
curiosity
hiding
uncertain
what is real
robotically
interacting
because i
can be a touch
too intense
which frightens
normal people
i am an
ink spill across
your perfect heart
regret written
in shakey cursive
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
No one is normal. I’m not afraid of you. You’re a good poet. I had to come in search of good poems… the main reader was starved and mediocre and preachy. I’m looking forward to your book! It should arrive in a little less than a week… but I think I got your last copy! So now everyone else has to read it on kindle until you get more printed… I wanted to buy two cuz of a friend of mine… but couldn’t. Hope you are having a good night.
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Thank you, my friend. I hope you enjoy it. It is a strange collection and doesn’t stick to genres very well. Escape Artist and Eros and Psyche are my favorite pieces in it. I appreciate the support, truly.
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