I hear murmurs in the woods.
Croaky, disembodied voices.
Shadows, chasing away the subtle light.
Evoking a dangerous fight.

The walls are white.
The doctors speaking, is forthright.
These pills they say,
Are medications,
But I don’t want,
Their compensations.














There are flames, up a head.
That clearly haven’t been fed.
Imitating belly dancers.
My protruding eyes,
Dancing to the fire’s rhythm.
The wind, creating powerful lancers
Provoking the burning dancers.


They say a useful treatment is,
Family therapy
But they separated me
From my mommy and daddy

I’m isolated from society
Due to my delusions
And anxiety

Rising higher,
Then those flesh devouring venoms.
The wind, harmonizing a choir,
I seek a darker contrast.
Clouded, muted silver.

My breath,
Veiling me unsuccessfully.
My conscience playing,
Tricks on me.
My dilemmas and fears,
Coincide.

My hands, cups the flame
My mind playing games.

The cloud contorts itself around the devil’s soul.
My eyes open wide,
I’m feeling like Jekyll and Hyde.

I breathe over the dancers,
Creating a dark shadow.
And there are my answers.

I’m made up of hallucinations
And constant observations.
My whole life,
I’ve lived in strife.

I breathe heavily over the candlelight.
The burning dancers,
disappearing in the moonlight.
And once again I’m trapped, alone,
With my only exhausting friend,
Schizophrenia