The more I think about
these swirling thoughts
with this particular medication
racing through my system,
the less I believe
that this is the universe
I wish to reside in anymore.

I want out.
I hope for a home
with better rules
and kinder operators.
This is not the place for me.
It’s just not working out
and I need a change of address.

Get me out of here
to a gentler reality
where physics is softer
and the emotional spectrum
is somewhat more balanced.
Give me a narrow series of predators
who will only nibble
at my sole
instead of any homophones
of ill repute.

Take me anywhere or anytime,
I don’t care. I will dare
to go anywhere.
Just… out of here.
I gotta go.
I gotta go.

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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