Return to Delusion

In this world,
of hallucinations and pixilated monsters,
I reside.

The sun burns red with the blood that fills the streets,
the monsters chase unwary joggers,
and singing flowers hide in the woods behind the house.

Animals talk and buildings sway to the beat
of the drums.
The drums.

Unsure of what is real and what is not.
Clocks freeze and clouds melt.

The telephone speaks to me.
We're all mad here, it says.