On Top of the World

What I found out, to this day, people
say I'm insane.
 No ladder can reach so far
The cost to stack and screw each metal
upon each other is priceless. Some
 people even screw just to find
  themselves, though the truth
   only buries deeper.
    I've tried to
     build it
      once.
       I
even binded
 my soul to a spell.
   The Return brought me back
     and a cloud handed me a feather
      for a pem and i wrote on the sky,
 a mirage sluips from my fingers; ink of venom
splatters on the blue. Illusions of randome spirits
  disturbs my train of thought.
    the venom covers my whole exterior,
                              seething,
I fathom that quiet boy's wrath and he spins me a twister,
                              the tirnado grants me well,
take me to the stratosphere
those flies beg for mercy, eyes of decieving
cupcakes, they'll never change.
 Excuse my headless, anorexic optimism
I starved
and decapitated her so I won't remember the
face of humanity's deceptions.
                                          A man said the
                                      earth is round, but I
                                   believe he either mislead
                              how the earth is truly shaped
                          or how the earth shapes you .
                      I and my soul laughs at him in perfect unity. So angry all I could do is indulge mirthfully and i curse his pathetic logic
with all my being, casting
 stars to pierce his grave.
Children should know the dangers of the world
for it is not whole.

I take the feather along,
slicing the earth in half with its dead owner's beak,
pecking the winds that carry lies.
Venom won't dissipate- opposes hide and seek
A wanderer could find it
odyssey is in the sky raising
his glass of moon's wine
unanimously.
 You mundane frogs,
 eat my flies of triumph
 with your stapled tongues, creatures of words,
but no men of action.
Venom seeps everywhere I am
silly fools, you try to shape me,
 silly world of false blocks
  I wreak havoc on the tracks
   Thomas the train finally frowns
when i showed him the truth beneath them
He spits on his engine
and shuts down. A child's fairytale of
adventure is lost every minute.
I shall punch Time in one of his twelve faces.

I made it above the stratosphere and looked below

American dreams are deserted souls.
Here is why they say I'm insane.

The world's not round.
You lie.
It's flat as hell.
I'm looking at how it moves now
 And the sun
 lies on his orange bumpy back
 like an invincible bubblewrap,
 burning thesoles in my shoes,
 with a hand on his lower joke, semen lof false life,
 staring up at me with a sickening
          smile.