Inky shades inside
and out,
inside out
I am.
Damaged goods,
I hear the words
no -
the SYMPTOMS
- echo through
my 'broken' head.
"You aren't 'normal'",
the sky says to me.
Ironic blue
laughs
as my feet hit
the concrete.
(Not that I could 
run
if I tried.)
Bound by my own
obsessions
and choked
by my own
hands.
Wring me out,
I am drowned
in truth
and truth is
drowned
in me.
You have a 
disorder.
You...
You?
You!
and me both.
No separation,
thin denial
fractures.
This is what is wrong
with ME.
And the streetlamps flutter,
the gutters 
overflow.