insanity

a vendetta all its own.
a life outside of life.
an imaginary world in your mind.
that most seem to prefer.
but those plagued by the curse,
know of the hell of solitude.

it is a hell you visit each time you close your eyes.
you tear them open with the same image branded in your memory.
you sit and scream and cry.
louder and louder, harder and harder.
searching for a salvation away from this bittersweet reality.
when the next stop for you is hell.

sitting motionless in an enclosed cell.
contemplating life and reason.
looking back on memories of freedom and love.
you motion your hands through the air pretending their still there.
reliving all those past memories.
when in truth you have nothing.
you grasp and nothing but emptiness throws you into despair and hallucinations.


those entities you see are so confusing.
you fear your own thoughts.
wishing you could make it go away.
screaming and praying, recieving blank amplified nothingness.
you hear the unheard screams.
and your ability to decifer those from yours are impaired.
the constant confusion drags you farther down.
soon you are submissive to any influence.
and you are a slave to substance, till death does you par