Throwing out the fleece

This poem doesn't have a title. It was something I wrote after talking to a person online who confused me. I guess it's a sort of Brain Munchie poem.

• I'm throwing out the fleece
• Soaking up the tide
• Freeing random thoughts through pen and pad
• My mind is all confused by what you say
• I say I'm lost, you say I'm there
• What's going on and why does it all fit?
• All it is is brain waste, or the product of midnight insanity
• All you are is crazy, but I tell you otherwise
• Why do I insist you're not crazy?
• Why do you insist you are?
• Your higher self is wise
• You are not
• You know what your higher self says, but you don't know why
• Extraordinary, perfect, it fits. I'm there!
• You have faces in your window so you don't use them
• There are faces in your tree
• They change with the sun
• ­żżżDoes this make sense???