Wakes in its mistake,
Personification, of the temple,
Of an alternate state of insanity.
Internally embracing rejection vs. guilt,
Now ignorance breates bliss.
my ceiling laughs at me.
I lay on my back and look at it.
I think funny things about sealing wax
and cabbage.
Or chess,
Or 1+1+1+1+1.
I wonder if cat eat bats, or bats eat cats
And if Dinah's quite alright.
My ceiling grins maliciously
Like the Cheshire cat
And asks me which road I'd like to go
down.
I wander off on a tangent,
And he sweeps away the path behind
me.
A hatter shrieks in the distance,
Or is that the tea of a hare?
To turn around is folly,
My cabbages are gone
And I'm already late.
I curese my Cheshire ceiling and throw
things at it
It fades away except for the grin
clue.
The hookah smoke gets in my face
And my eye begins to water.
"Pepper in your eye?" the smirking
smile jeers.
I spit at him.
Shortly after,
I realize the stupidity of spitting at a
ceiling on your back.
My other eye waters.
I wipe my face and begin to beg
Beg for him to let me go and let me
sleep and let me think
He laughs at me, then points out that I
am asleep,
And I am thinking.
A step back shows that Dinah is quite
alright
And that my mirror could stand a
washing
And I can't help but wonder
If it really was the red king.