He Struggles Just Like Me

In his head, he sees a genocide
Feeling no pity for those who died

Yet he shame himself for being so cruel with hardly any mercy
Drinks the blood, without being thirsty

His mind is twisted
Confused with all these symptoms listed

He wants to deny
But he still doesn't know if it's the truth or a lie
A lie he can either condone or defy

Sometimes help is beyond psychiatric
He needs a real connection to clear the static

Suffering with mental illness
He feels hopeless
But hope looks him in the eyes and tells him he can do this

They may assume and rebuke
But intentions aren't sickening, but still make him puke

Things always change
But in his eyes, life will always be strange.