Am I as impalpable as I imagine myself 
or am I verdant and sarcastic, 
opposites of what I should aspire to be? 
We all have our dragon to slay; 
I have many. 

My mind is as a billabong, 
backed up with emotion, 
I cannot control. 
Pain stretches like rivers 
into deep green fields, 
I'm so isolated in my misery 
I can feel the mistral of Southern France 
on my saffron coloured face, 

I am malaise, 
as I look 
through the tilted mirrors of my soul, 
there are no banisters here to hold. 

I am a freethinker, 
one, 
who does not believe in alchemy. 
Life has made me heretical and
I often wonder 
if isolation is my true sanctity 

but as a non-conformist, 
I tend to do a lot of wondering. 

©JMCole