Awakened to a strange abode from hypodermic rest,
a fang of choosing not my own my sanity to test.
A decor designed to confound with sunlight polarized,
my body and my mind, my soul, privacy compromised.
What memories choose to avail such atmospheric blight,
except for faces sweetly seen on visitation night?
Compulsive sense of order right amuses others so,
arranging everything around because of what I know.
But listen not to what I say for job security.
If it makes sense, you're on the fence. That just leaves amity.