Maybe It's Toxoplasma Gondii

Wandering the wilderness of my own mind,
Forgetting the language of men...
Socially, at least...
Relationships past have been too complicating...
Every hoped to be perfect thing,
Perfect in its unique imperfection,
Has been ultimately draining, traumatizing, or tiresome...
Humans, as simplistic as their motivations are, are hard for me to read...
Who knows?
Maybe it's Toxoplasma Gondii...
Maybe I'm on the autism spectrum...
Maybe it's the anxiety and depression...
Maybe it's just bad luck...
Maybe I've just made bad choices...
Blame it on the rain with an obvious lip-synch...
Physical desire still rages despite the heart no longer anything but terrified of love...
No destination address on the package...
I could use being the new kid in town,
But every town is very much the same as any other...
Even when the language or inflection is almost new,
The way people interact boils down to the basics...
Bare bones in the stew pot makes for the same broth, time and time and time again...
Living in these human hives,
Fleshy insects with bones inside,
And the jelly goo on the outside...
You know, ants recognize themselves in the mirror,
Not even many vertebrates can do this,
Most see their reflection as a threat,
As someone else staring them down...
Something outside trying to get in
Rather than something inside trying to get out...
Bouncing foxes from the henhouse
While serpents swallow the eggs...
Sharp spine breaking the calciferous shell
As the medicine goes down...
The things we do for life...
The things we do to bear the pain...
Endure or escape...
Just get used to it...
Or do something about it...
Or try to forget...
Somehow immune to envenomation...
The flesh may tear, but the blood is too cold to boil...
Seething without heat...
Zero point energy harvested directly from the void,
Conceived within the singularity...
It's nothing, really...
Just constant motion infinitely looped...
Same shit, different day, all served up in infinite ways...
A grand parade digging paths through the wood with perpetual hoofbeats forever...
The panoply of biodiversity eventually gives way to amnesiac propensity 
Lest you become bored of knowing it all...
And you will...
And you do...
Close your eyes, and dream...
It all comes back round...
There is no escape...
Might as well enjoy the show...
Bite down on a piece of leather
As the whip opens the flesh covering your rib cage...
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