Blasted and biased microcosmic madness tones jiggle your earbones by way of your headphones
My poem passes thru this mortal zone and your head bones feel stoned everytime you hear your own ringtone
The players of our lives compose a fucking circus so chemical imbalance fallacies reconstruct our citrus circuits, caught in an "if" loop, and if = if you care so if you dare take up a chair and together we can go there

Consume another multivitamin