I found this while rummaging through old papers looking for inspiration. It's an old poem I wrote while I was distracted during a class. I think, if my memory serves me well, it's based off a dream I had the night before. But I think the poem is suppose and is best read while laying down and speaking with your therapist. The poem has no title so i will give it one on the spot. enjoy.

MONDAY MORNINGS
All right fine
I'm naked
I woke up in bed at sunrise
My chest lay open
My rib cage open
To lay my organs bare
My heart
Numb to the touch
I'm cold
So I hang clothes from my shoulders
The clothes are even colder
My heart visibly beating at the fabric through my chest
I go outside and back inside an office building
There are people and my heart makes a break for it
Fluttering away and bursting through my button up shirt
It's escape is halted by the main arteries still unwillingly clinging to my body
A colleague walks by with coffee
I know because I am breathing in the aroma
But only through my exposed naked lungs
My heart is inexplicably in his coffee
Startled
The mug drops and shatters
My heart thumps like a fish
Gasping on the coffee soaked floor
The mug repairs its self and flies back to his hand
He asks
"why aren't you wearing your pants?"
"couldn't find them"
"they're in your hands"

Maximillian's Numerous Questions

Maximillian stared at the ceiling. God, he thought, what am I doing? He had no idea, so he kept staring at the ceiling. God didn't know what Max, which is what Maximillian let some people call him (obviously God is one of those people, although Maximillian isn't particularly religious), was doing, but he was curious, so he watched Max stare at the ceiling, and thought what is he doing? Max lay there for a while more, thinking the whole time. Because God did not answer him, not that he was expecting Him to, Maximillian decided that he would decide for himself what he was doing. I am getting out of bed. And, wonders of wonders, he was. Without any input from God, without divine intervention or miraculous happenings Maximillian got out of bed. Because God did not answer him Maximillians next thought was Jesus, what am I doing? Well Jesus was in the same camp as God, confused, amused and befuddled about what Max was going to do (Jesus is also one of those people whom Maximillian allows the nickname Max to be used in reference to him, him Maximillian, not him Jesus or him God, in both of those situations the proper pronoun is Him instead of him). And so Jesus, next to God, watched Maximillian. With no heavenly guidance Maximillian decided he was on his own, and got dressed without instructions from anyone. Having gotten himself thus far on his own Maximillian was now himself a little confused about what he was doing. So yet again he turned to religion. Oh prophet Muhammad, what am I doing? Prophet Muhammad heard him but had no idea what Max was doing ( You guessed it, Muhammad is also one of those people) so he watched, just as curiously as God and Jesus.

So the day went: Maximillian continually unsure of his direction and at a loss with whatever everyday action he was about to perform. whatever God, or deity he asked equally unsure but curious as to what he would do. Maximillian questioned the great gods and goddesses of Ancient Greece and Rome on his next actions, all were silent, but intrigued. The pagan gods, and goddesses and minor deities, were equally silent and perhaps even more intrigued than the Divine Beings of Greece and Rome. Maximillian questioned the Gods and Goddesses of the Maya, the Inca and the Aztecs, the plethora of Holy Spirits of the Native Americans, from Tawa the sun spirit of the Hopi, to Nanook, the Inuit master of polar bears, to Hahgwehdiyu the Iroquois creator God. Maximillian implored Buddha and Krishna, asked Confucius and Lau-Tze for instruction. No one answered but all were interested in what this curious man would do next. I would go on listing gods and goddesses and deities and such but I think you get the point (sorry Africa, you get left out once again). By bed-time Maximillian had run out of Supreme Beings, venerated humans and all manners of spirits and demons. Exhausted from his long day of questioning and menial, obvious, commonplace, tasks, Maximillian collapsed into bed, without ever having to ask anyone. 

The Strange Adventures of Mr. Fiske

That's Mr. Fiske in the middle, with the sunglasses.

Mr Fiske was a busy guy. He had a busy life. He had important places to go, and important things to do. He was always rushing back and forth, hurrying through everything. On day he was quickly walking down the sidewalk. Suddenly he found himself not in the hustle and bustle of the city, but in a quiet woodland clearing.

Mr. Fiske found himself to suddenly be in a forest very much like this one.

His first thought was "SHIT! I have so much to do, how am I going to do anything here." his second thought was "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? AND HOW DID IT HAPPEN?!?" He looked around, tree, tree, tree, berry bush, tree, tree, evergreen tree, path, tree, tree, evergre- wait, was that  path? He looked back, evergreen, tree, tree, path. Path. Yes it was a path. He quickly walked towards the path. He immediately tripped on a tree root and fell flat on his face. He lay there for a while. He groaned. He slowly got back up. This time he walked towards the path. Not quickly, but then again not particularly slowly either. As he walked he realized he had no idea where he was or where he was going. He decided to keep going anyway. Eventually he made it to a clearing. He looked around, tree, tree, tree, berry bush, tree, tree, evergreen tree, path, tree, PATH. He took the path, again, not quickly and not slowly, but at a good walking-through-the-woods pace. He started thinking about what he was going to tell people when he got back from where-ever-this-is to his real life. He found himself in a clearing. Looking around he noticed many of the same things  tree, tree, tree, berry bush, tree, tree, evergreen tree, path, tree. Again he took the path. A little worried he began to speed up a little. Not a lot, but he was no longer not going particularly slow. Again he found himself in a clearing. Not looking around he kept going down the path. Faster, faster, he was jogging, trotting, running, sprinting, going all out, when SPLAT! He tripped on a root and landed flat on his face. His first though was "ouch" his second thought was "ouch, shit that really hurt" his third thought was "what the hell?" his fourth thought was "why am I cold?" He slowly got up and immediately closed his eyes. It was so bright he couldn't see. He opened his eyes a little. Squinting, all he could see was white.

This is what Mr. Fiske saw when he opened his eyes.

 After a little while he began to make out trees, some kind of tall slender trees...what were they called? Birch. He saw birch trees, covered in snow. That was why he was cold, he had landed in snow. "Baaaah" he screamed, very loudly. Some birds flew up from the trees. "Curse you birds!" he had no idea what was going on.