You're Crazy In General

"You're crazy in general". It only takes eleven years to figure that out. Eleven years of knowing nothing knows crazy when he sees it. A blind eye to a father's betrayal knows crazy. From the mouth of babes the word crazy is trained from the first apple off the tree.

In general, a ball of bitch always ready to bounce. Overinflated and agitated. A magnet attracted to lies, lust, and loss. Trying to be. Trying to be both to all three. Mother and Father to these sister and brothers. The only voice of reason, is crazy, in general.

Crazy doesn't count the kisses on foreheads tucked into bed. Crazy counts the heartbreak that catches up to break her. Crazy counts the chasers that don't even want to chase her. Crazy counts the ways that could permanently erase her.

Generalizations lead to rationalizations that are not always what they seem. The crazy climber climbs her own walls. Digs her own trenches and drowns her own selfishness to feed the three little fish all that is left of herself. Crazy as it may seem.

Crazy isn't general. It's all encompassing. Thorough. The jumper in her jumps. She glides with an awkward confidence. Soaring through the cumulus clouds of life. Tucking in the crazy as it deftly tucks her into bed. In general, the crazy is all in your head.

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