Sanitarium

 
Hazy thoughts of discontent    
plague my confidence as of late    
A dampening of emotions causing    
a moldy growth over my conscience    
   
I wonder as to whether    
my lackluster existence is to blame    
Introverted into my own    
claustrophobic prison of doubt    
   
Seclusion is starting to wear on me    
where there used to be just anxiety    
the process of conversion has begun    
mutating back into debilitating insanity    
   
Once insane, always insane    
though the intensity comes and goes    
There's a healing process    
when you almost find the strength to move on    
   
But the disease always seems to resurface    
sooner or later it comes creeping back    
Consuming the sub-conscience in darkness    
taking the clarity out of thought    
   
I'm reminiscent now of those dreary years    
Forced into a cold, lonely confinement    
the intoxication of medications    
gradually diminishing any free will    
   
Linoleum flooring and a sterile scent    
These are the demons that ravage my mind    
creating a backdrop for my nightmares    
taking place on the coldest nights    
   
I try not to hyperventilate    
My bitterness does not allow anything so pathetic    
that could give away my growing trepidation    
if only I could convince myself that    
   
I can feel that I'm on the brink    
crumbling into a puddle of incoherence    
What was it he said to me last time?    
the third time that I visited that place?    
   
These words are always on my mind    
"Next time you come in will be the last,    
you won't be leaving after that."    
For that alone I have persevered    
   
I tried my hardest to leave it behind me    
These past years I had become reserved    
cynicism driving me into my barren sanctuary    
where nothing could affect me    
   
But it has finally caught up with me    
I defiantly try to resist the dark    
though I can feel it's chilling touch    
transforming me into a something less    
   
I'm actually terrified    
I don't want to be locked away again    
In a patronizing world of restraint    
cast in shades of dull white    
   
In this place time seems to slow down    
lights are piercing rays into your skull    
sound taking on a muffled quality    
senses warped into confusion    
   
I remember lying on my bed that first night    
crying myself to sleep    
thinking there had been some mistake    
that nothing like this could have happened to me    
   
Now it's all too familiar    
My mind is screaming for me to flee    
before my insanity catches up with me    
I would do anything to avoid going back there    
   
Even if it means taking this gun    
cold and unsympathetic in my quivering hand    
placing it delicately to my temple    
and blowing my fucking brains out