pysch 101

I felt my hands claw at my own skin and I thought for a second that knifes would finally find their way inside my veins and they cut open my brains trying to find the reason for
Insanity
In close proximity to the pharmacy door across from the hall
And gravity, means more to me once I’m throwing shelves against my locked doors and crying from inside the trap door
And I grabbed my skin and felt it slide to the floor and melt down to the feelings of feeling so insecure and I yelled at the walls, for seeing me weak
A shot of liquid sleep injected through my arm and.
Stop.
The empty room has rounded walls, and I pound against the walls and try to make my voice bigger than it is and then I curse the voices in the separated doors and
Stop
My limbs have gotten tired I lie in pools of ink and try to die in a puddle with words as my companion
And if that pen comes near my skin they tie me down to the board and I try to struggle through the hands grabbing me. The sweat pours down my lips and I can’t help but try not to be still. And I feel the clothes tearing under muscles but I’ve gone too far past the line. And I feel my head hit against the wall and then.
They write down notes in the devils little notebooks and I feel the pills slip through my system, placid words escape my mouth as I lose my edge and try to keep my strength
And my fists are softer and I’m sent to the cushions of my brain to lie in an empty bed
Administrated drugs stopping up my veins
I can feel the blood of her tears on my shoulder as it’s seeping through the gown I tear it off my skin and
They rush in my room and waste no time until the needle penetrates my thin white skin, and they say I’m so pale because of heritage not because the sun can’t seek my skin

I’m starting to believe life must be better between these padded walls.
Begging leaves no benefits behind, only white walls and isolation
I screamed for open rooms and keys hanging off strange hips and all I got was the stamp of insanity on my head as they tied me down with authority and gagged the screams from my mouth

And all that is left is compliant movements and marching where they point their orders until they lead me to the front doors and I’m free
Until they snub one of my memories and declare I’m dangerous in independency, and take me under their padded wings with their needles
Until another time of paper clothes and plastic smiles