Verge

Maybe I could a name band after this.

Name my guitar after this.

Name my book after this.

In the verge of going crazy.

You're not the dreamer.

You're not living in the clouds.

All the fluffy, white things.

Oh so light.

So bright.

See so not feel.

Now, before, after, still

You're getting to the edge.

Below are so high.

No one cares. No one believes.

It just a piece of crap, thrash.

Recycle?

Hurdle?

Absurd feeling.