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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Arts · #703237
A poem about insanity.
"Psycosis"
I sit upon my bed,
Holding my head in my hands,
Thinking thoughts I wish to hide,
I smell the smoke,
How it burns my lungs,
And the thoughts,
They torment my mind,
Why won't these thoughts,
These little imps.
Leave me be?
I see the glare of the flames,
It's snaking up my outside wall,
Beckoning from the outside,
Calling from behind my bedroom door,
The smoke clouds my vision,
But I sit still on that bed,
I hold my head in my hands,
My eyes staring at the floor,
I can hear them now,
They want to save me,
To free me from the flames,
I won't go,
No,
The flames will devour me,
They want me,
I can't run anymore,
My mind is spinning,
The voices won't stop,
I stand and look to my dresser,
How it's discolored with smoke,
I walk to my bedroom door,
Tis the end I agree,
I open the door to let the flames come in,
To let them consume the final resting place,
The only place,
Left to myself,
I open that door,
And there she stands everytime,
Dressed in the nurses outfit,
Holding the syringe in her hand,
I don't scream anymore,
The needle doesn't hurt me,
The fire dies,
The house vanishes,
And I sit in the floor,
Of my cold white cell,
Forever cursed by my mind,
To play out my twisted thoughts,
Until she saves me again,
But only for a while.

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