Paranioa Poem by Stevie Smith

Waned and weary with only toil and trouble
my limbs could only travel this journey tired..

In my head to in my mind
-which coincidentally were not the same thing-
thoughts seemed to expire from the zealous fear found in your gaping wide darkness of speech.

My serenely spiritual soul's mythical secret shadow sparkled as a jewel:

Boundlessly black but brazenly beauteous by day, but by night,

my mind mentioned masses of decoratively hung ghastly gossip,
secretively shushed into silence
never
ever
to be a quick quiet find for any of us.