Spit-wads

I was broken
but stayed intact
for the sake of others,

who are these others?
I see no one,
nothing

the artist in me wants to paint a prettier picture
but the ugliness of it all intoxicates the senses
so I decide it shall always be ugly

I slip into my head
finding comfort there
a delusion of grandeur

tripping over old stones
just to land right next to the same demons
giggling, because it's all I can do.