Strange Fruit Hanging from My Ceiling Fan

Cracked is my cranium;

So, therefore as they do—

I change with the seasons.

Every time the clouds come,

They somehow sink into my broken dome. The sun—

When it has time—softly envelops my brain.

Stability in my life, (comes)

In four month periods.

Just when I start to figure myself out,

Everything changes—

Dizzying.

People make small talk about leaves;

Dying and being reborn.

People make small talk about my spirit;

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