My chip

Sitting in my corner
pondering my essence
pouring my soul
speaking my words
crying my mind
reaping my heart
stiring my veins

Is this reality?
my world I created as a child
were everyone is happy in a dark sort of way
My flowers bloom back, in a million colors
Starting first and finishing last
begining at the end but not good enough

The keyboard bearing my person
The monitor burning my eyes
yes I am in control
no other can stop
what I know inside
where do I begin
showing the world the mess it created
forcing the world to the herion in my cable

what now can you know
that my reality hasn't consumed?

-hugme
12/17/1998