My ceiling…
Dark shadows crawl across it in the depth of night
Blinking lights flicker, unendingly
Yet my sister says she doesn’t see them
My bedroom…
Daunting figures creep at all four corners
Objects tilt and move as though cursed with the gift of life
Yet my sister says she doesn’t see them
My bathroom…
Loud babies cry through my tormenting showers
Every object screams its excitement to attack me
Yet my sister says she doesn’t hear them
Insane, freak, demon, witch
While lost in the jungle that’s my mind
I’m marked like a plague, stigmatized and made fun of
Not even my sister defends me
I’m losing pieces
Each time I’m called delusional
I question my very existence
Am I real?
I’m losing more pieces
Every time I look in the mirror
Demons of shattered glass stare back at me
Am I insane?
Day by day I lose myself
I am not insane
I know I’m not insane…
I just need
Help
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Author:
aishaadamuuu (
Offline) - Published: September 11th, 2023 02:47
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 12
- User favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan.
Offline)
Comments3
poet 💯💯
scary to try and contemplate
I champion your bravery
in you sharing, others may recognise
they are not alone in the fight..
This is not about me personally; I am not schizophrenic. I just wanted to spread awareness about what it's like for people with schizophrenia 🙂
May I ask, then how you know?
Through analyzing various case studies :). After reading them, I was determined to share the experiences through poetry.
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