Poetry composed while listening to Bjork

Split into two / or more / lost track but who's counting / of how many times I conjure up fragmentation

Sinister overtones to the governing class
Urge to flee reactivated
Wouldn't you know it
No amount of drugs can obliterate my fighting instinct

I have radical self-respect
No matter the people
Who try to frame me
As the problem

Playing hopscotch to invisible marks
The colour is inspired by various facades
Embedding themselves in my backbone
I walk as if animated by colour

Flowers swelling from my hair
You're not permitted to enter there
Perhaps you have a point or three
But my tone needs no explanation