Tristan Robert Lange

A Little Mad

The struggle to cope—

To live—

Is real. So very real.

Not in the “brink of oblivion” sense—

Heaven forbid it comes to that—

But in the day-to-day,

The fucking war

That wages on endlessly,

The trying to balance

Therapy

With

Not that I am truly impoverished.

I am not.

But my mental health needs

Surpass my means all the same.

Society does not care.

Compassion has an expiration date.

Empathy is, now, a sin.

Weakness, a blight.

Dogs eat dogs,

An ugly sight.

And at the end of it all—

The blight to be expired—

Where does this leave me?

Worse than me,

Where does

This leave

Others?

“We all go a little mad sometimes.” — Norman Bates