Unverified existence

When I look into your eyes
I can tell your soul is tortured;
a thousand stories can be read
through just one gaze.

Always pained and always broken,
even when you smile
your eyes say you're choking
in a pool of your own regret.

At first I tried to please you,
make you smile and
take away all of your pain.
But it's not that easy.

I can read you all too well
and when you say you're "fine"
I know you're not
and that you just want to be left alone.

Leaving you is hard for me -
with all your mood swings
I never know what to expect
and whether you'll be there
the next time I turn around.

I want to change the way you think,
the way you see life,
the way you're always so bitter,
the way you cover up your emotions,
and don't let them flow
like they're naturally supposed to

the same way as your life should.

You need to stop being in control,
you need to let yourself go, run free.
I don't know how to help you
because now every time I talk to you
you just shut me out
and pretend I don't really exist.

My presence tells you that you're insane
but you're not - I am just as real as yourself
a part of you who wants to help.

You're not a schitz
though I'm just a voice in your head,
waiting to be heard,
waiting to help you let loose,
help you realise

you can't always be in control.