In my reality I’ve learned that white dreams are a sign
That you are psychotic to the brim as reality will define
But my dreams are dark and there’s never a light
If I can remember them I wonder if they’re ever right
I can no longer tell the difference between right and wrong
Questioning if I’m in a dream that’s one dream too long
My reality is white but my dreams are dark and deleterious
Somewhere between me and the world I have gone delirious
I’m scared to ask for help for help is no longer a choice
I only listen to what I believe is an answer and voice
Instructions whether to be or to not be at all befalls
Surrounded by a white sky and solitary white walls
Reality seems untouchable but in my dreams they are
They touch me too and they leave me with a scar
No flesh wound, nor anything you can possibly view
It’s more something that makes me wonder what’s true
Possibilities of everything yet nothing are present
In front of me forever so why do I feel so unpleasant?
Why are my dreams dark and my day dreams white?
Reality to me has been there but never too bright
I fear hospitals will be my home for life and forever
Conspiracy theories haunting my mind in which I endeavor
I think things that I don’t think no one ever should think
Reality has its many boundaries and I’m on the brink
I always ask. “Why?” but answers never seem to come
Feeling as if my whole body has gone eternally numb
I think about what is right and what is truly real
But there’s only so much information my world will reveal
I’m scared inside as to becoming what I always feared
A psychotic, solitary person… in my dreams it’s appeared
I don’t want to die yet I don’t wish to live
There’s only so many things humanity will forgive
When will it finally end or when will it finally start?
The only true things I know are the things in my heart
But what if I’m wrong, what if it’s all in my head?
I’m alive in reality but in thoughts I am dead
Smiling at the mirror but it won’t smile back
The disease in my soul is truly on full attack
I have so many more questions to ask and to seek
But for now I’ll just let for itself the world to speak
I do see the white and wonder about the diagnosis I see
I do dream about murder as to killing the psychosis in me
-
Author:
Rob (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 1st, 2011 18:42
- Comment from author about the poem: Idk
- Category: Surrealist
- Views: 59
- User favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy.
Offline)
Comments2
Wow. It is AWFUL and yet you make it sound so real,....like a peek into insanity.
It is real. Hey Jenny, do you ever stop to wonder about the little things in life that make the world seem real to you? Like if this is all just in your head or apart of Gods' plan? Have you ever felt suicidal and happy at the same time? Idk what to think anymore. This is a peek into insanity. Only it's mine. I wish I knew how to say what I am trying to say.
I think you've expressed yourself well now as well as in this poem......the little things in life that make the world seem real to me? You got me, I can't think what...like for example? I can more readily think of the times the world has momentarily seemed UNreal. I find it difficult to believe that our insanities are part of "God's plan." What if instead it is like what the Bible refers to as people being tormented by devils?
My girlfriend talked to me about that how it could just be devils or demons. Idk, it's hard to think right now. I just broke up with her and it's new years day. I don't even know why either. I just let my thoughts consume me. It'ss hard to live your life if the devil's in control. And I'm just letting him do it. It's like one of my poems. I'm like a puppet. I can't believe myself sometimes.
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