Post #4500295

In the spinning, clanging chaos of modernity, with ASD, ADHD, and alexithymia, my triune reality, tyrants in my skull, not one moment free. Concentration’s a farce, a joke, a lie, my mind a drunken bird, forever awry. Lost in the pans’ sizzle, and the city's ceaseless cry. I wage a silent war, no Spartans by my side, in the shadow of the urban forest, where I reside. My defense, it seems, has gone with the tide. Battling the phantom, the changer, the thief, my emotions held hostage, beyond belief, Life, my old friend, offers no relief Yet here I stand, neither fallen nor meek, finding poetry in the strange, the offbeat, the bleak. My tale ain’t pretty, but it's uniquely chic.