Beauty in Illness

I.
The voices in my head never stop
They overwhelm me like a pebble stuck
In an ocean’s tempest. The insidious screams
Of hidden devils torments my nights
So I paint their unheard whispers
On a wide blank canvas that can envelop
The secrets they share with me

II.
Everyday I drown in my own shadow
Through sundown and moonrise my misery
Encapsulates the sky and turns black the sultry
sun and stars. That darkness is my ink
With which I weave beauty upon a simple white page
From the ashes of nonexistence I bring to life
The broken galaxies trapped within my crippled mind
the words I  stich from my soul’s drooling blood
Are laid bare for all to see

III.
I tremble at the slightest touch of a stranger's gaze
I’m uncomfortable in the skin in which I was borne
A raging sea of red ants crawl underneath, tiptoeing
Quickly across my shaken sanity. I shudder underneath
The weight of my clumsy words, I let slip so inelegantly
My frail thoughts for all to ignore, the softly uttered mumblings
Of a ghost. I slink away into invisibility to be alone with my
Anxiety. Yet in my music, I’ve found something
A new body, stability from the air in my lungs,
Strength from my quivering diaphragm,
Courage from the persistent vibrations in my voice
In my music I am born anew