There sure has been inessential suffering
If only you all would listen
Yet the auras are still shifting
What world is it today?
How should I act?
Let’s drain the color and toss us in sepia
Was that voice you?
Am I awake?
But the static grows
My body with internal electrical burns
Voices get loud and I cannot hear the world
So I split skin
Eventually enough marks make it quiet
It will come back
Tell me doc, did I get better?
Improve?
You fed me drugs and locked me away
But you just wouldn’t listen
When will I stop adding new scars?
Why does it even matter?
John Putignano 