Of Detachment And Insanity Poem by Rouren Torres

I choked.
As simple as that,
As easy as breathing;
Sometimes easier than.
It all depends on when you ask.

I laid on the bed and said:
'You go on ahead world,
I'll catch up later
Or just wait here
Till you're done.'

Eventually I crawled on,
Can't say I was willing
In the same manner
I can't say I was not.
You can say I living-ly crawled through my day.

Whoever said living takes will
Is either a spectacular lier
Or a blessed naive,
Or someone who simply
Hasn't heard of autopilot.

You can fool the wise
And entertain the fools
As long as you wear a smile.
Afterwards you can let the shrink know
You've been a bad girl
And watch as your walls fall.

I've heard part of insanity is not knowing you're insane,
But then how sane can you be when you trip
On the same crack over and over and over and over…
It's the same one every time, hasn't moved, hasn't changed
Yet only a part of you manages to sidestep
While the rest fails beautifully in failing to miss it.

That's the wonder of desensitization, I'd think.
Eventually you can recover your make-believe balance
So quickly no one would notice the slight stumble.
Never mind the horrific free fall from the tight rope
To the cold cement below; the main act ends in tragedy,
But let the crowd cheer for the show must go on!

Your world has crumbled in on itself many times already,
Your mind has confused, amazed and horrified;
And you are tired, desperate, hysterical and on the verge of apathy.
It's been too many miles for such few years.
Everyone inevitably reaches the intersection between
'I can't take this anymore' and 'Who gives a dam? '

I think I took a sit under the sign of a bird being flipped sometime ago.
It was a satisfying decision.
It left me constantly on the brink of breaking, true,
But at the same time it gave me the ability
To watch as crows pecked at the meager remains
Of my sanity without batting an eye.
How wonderful it is to be shaken by your own thoughts!
…Yet completely unmoved by the reality outside your mind.