my home is in my mind.

where everything is made painstakingly.

painstakingly perfect.

perfection; defined as what one would see through

the lense of a camera.. but the lenses of my eyes.

every pixel of color; born of my thoughts.

but all is seen, nothing is felt.

pretend to feel the cool breeze.

breezes as such whirling my hair about my face.

there is no such thing as the 5 senses..

there is but one. sight.

indeed this place is a sight to see.

but insanity will wrap around your neck

when, what you long to feel has no substance.

full of clarity and purity, but lacking stability.

you're in my mind and there you will stay.

they don't want us on the outside.