i would prefer
the cracks racing
down my facade
were signs i am
hatching from this
too tight shell
not simply falling
into pieces again

whatever beast lurks
within this egg
can consume my mind
as nutrients to feed
the ravenous hunger
reabsorb any pieces
to be choked on later
as long as this aspect
of the delusion fades

rather i need to accept
falling apart and failing
are the price of madness
in the end it is the
smears on the paper
not the stain of a poet
which lives forever
which is a prospect
i am eternally grateful for