A Brand New Day

Like the onset of a schizophrenic episode I start my day, not sure of who I am or where I’m going, will I wake up where I fell asleep or duct taped to a chair somewhere, this never ending paranoid question of reality torments my mind. A thousand different ways to live but only one death.
It was supposed to be a masterpiece, instead everything fell apart, the blood on my hands, like paint, peeled and chipped away but the foul smell of rotting flesh will always remain, the bright lights and bubbling noises, the constant beeping , the faint smell of antiseptic cleanser just beneath it all,
my love becomes a razor blade, dulled over the years, to be dragged slowly across my soul, no scab shall ever heal in my presence, all this screams through my head, my eyes flutter open, and I realize
that I still have the rest of the day to get through...