Array ( [sid] => 33384 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => sick [time] => 2004-02-01 00:43:07 [hometext] => [bodytext] => nerves destroyed
twitching, shaking
watching things crawl on the walls
things that don't exist
things that can't exist
things that i see all the same

my mind is a bubble
that holds an endless scream
every attempt at thought
warped and distorted
by the shock waves of pain
that the scream produces

is it paranoia
when all their eyes fall on me?
is it truly schizophrenia
when their faces turn to hell?
is it depression
when i look around me and just want to cry?
is it really madness
or is it knowledge
gained in exchange
for false feelings of safety
and sanity

when i'm bleeding
they're feeding
on the pain that drove me there
and when, inside
i toy with suicide
they leave the gun under my pillow

i build a wall of truth
to show the world
but they paint it with delusion
backwards graffiti of the insane
and i am left to look the fool
as the world lives in a dying dream

always outnumbered
how can i win
they put these thoughts within me
they condition me to crave the end
no memory of joy to give me strength
for every yesterday is a lie

within the cell
that my life has become
i've bled out all that was human
i've washed my hands
of man and his kind

within this cell
this lifelong hell
i have become the monster
whose claws bear the names
of the hidden gods

and when they come
to feed me new thoughts
designed to drive me off the edge
i'll be waiting
lipless, to show the fangs of hate
that years of delusion have carved
fearless, for death is just an illusion
life never truly ends
merely becomes internal after awhile
soulless, because once you've seen the Machine
your idea of god and spirit
will change in a matter of moments
mindless, because every thought i've ever had
was never really mine

(my ivory cell
now spattered with
the grey hue of blood
when delusion is finally gone

wearing the skins of the unknown gods
like a savage from beyond the stars
unknotting lives bound to lies
leaving my trademark trail of scars) [comments] => 2 [counter] => 279 [topic] => 59 [informant] => Cancer [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => psychoticpoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - sick


sick
Date: Sunday, 1st February 2004 @ 12:43:07 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Cancer
nerves destroyed
twitching, shaking
watching things crawl on the walls
things that don't exist
things that can't exist
things that i see all the same

my mind is a bubble
that holds an endless scream
every attempt at thought
warped and distorted
by the shock waves of pain
that the scream produces

is it paranoia
when all their eyes fall on me?
is it truly schizophrenia
when their faces turn to hell?
is it depression
when i look around me and just want to cry?
is it really madness
or is it knowledge
gained in exchange
for false feelings of safety
and sanity

when i'm bleeding
they're feeding
on the pain that drove me there
and when, inside
i toy with suicide
they leave the gun under my pillow

i build a wall of truth
to show the world
but they paint it with delusion
backwards graffiti of the insane
and i am left to look the fool
as the world lives in a dying dream

always outnumbered
how can i win
they put these thoughts within me
they condition me to crave the end
no memory of joy to give me strength
for every yesterday is a lie

within the cell
that my life has become
i've bled out all that was human
i've washed my hands
of man and his kind

within this cell
this lifelong hell
i have become the monster
whose claws bear the names
of the hidden gods

and when they come
to feed me new thoughts
designed to drive me off the edge
i'll be waiting
lipless, to show the fangs of hate
that years of delusion have carved
fearless, for death is just an illusion
life never truly ends
merely becomes internal after awhile
soulless, because once you've seen the Machine
your idea of god and spirit
will change in a matter of moments
mindless, because every thought i've ever had
was never really mine

(my ivory cell
now spattered with
the grey hue of blood
when delusion is finally gone

wearing the skins of the unknown gods
like a savage from beyond the stars
unknotting lives bound to lies
leaving my trademark trail of scars)

This poem is Copyright © Cancer


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