Insanity Is What We Live For

You see, lately my insanity
Has been quite insufferable.
Pacing around in my white boxers,
White wife beater,
Greased hair and rank odor-
I find my own reasons to live
Impossibly unfaithful.
Blood stains my sheets
From sinful acts of being of
The female species, and the only
Evidence to hide it is
Layer after layer of blankets
So thick I sweat my impurities
Out at night.
The clutter in my mind is so impossible
I cant move without falling over
Reoccurring dreams of gardens and
My headless mother's body.
I can't breathe so whats the point
In trying to scream for someone to
Save me from my own insanity?