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schizophrenia

Lack of Belonging

Since a child I’ve had great difficulty understanding the emotions of others. Enigmatic, the ups and downs of the average person. Looking back, who I misunderstood the most was my older brother. Our interests drastically different our entire lives. I’d constantly accuse him of fake laughing. The things he found amusing seemed impossible in my eyes as something that could even come across as entertaining. I figured he was either humoring me or others when laughing or chuckling and I’d get confrontational and furious. I’d accuse him of faking the amusement. Tell him it wasn’t necessary. I was just ignorant of the difference in interests. I was ignorant to why it amused him, but he was amused.

To this day, when someone raises their voice or speaks in an aggressive tone I’m not aware whether they’re angry or simply loud. Gauging what people feel is confounding beyond further expression. I don’t know how to approach some. I don’t know what angers or saddens…

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Schizo Youth

Emotionally abusive parents of schizophrenic children should be sterilized.

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Draped of silhouettes and contorted figures a dim light barely saves the room from the void. Whispers, maddened by guilt claw at strands of sanity to shred and devour. Fetus on the sheets tightly squeezes its life away, hoping the malicious tones drain out. Louder they get when resisted. Sense of self is ever more vague. Creeping away without hope of return if lost. Angry voices across the door weaken the spirit and give way to the whimpering soul that lay broken while innocent. Confused of cause and with no reason to justify loathe. A burning hatred grows for the sun and the shelter. Welcoming becomes the fade across the shadows with no faces. Simplistic the illusion of nothing. Peacefully resting on the other side of action. Long enough assures bravery for cowardice and silence be witness to the collapsed towers of rage and wrath. Forgotten or at least desired to be the whither phase to the ether. And the river of tears run streams of screams and intention.

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Conflicting Thoughts

Close to the edge
Dragged to battle with reflections
Cattle of thought
Tryin’ to rattle the pot
Turn the heat up, they’re not
Just shadows gettin’ nearer
I’m thinkin’ clearer
Glass sight
It’s been years
Their vision blurs up, they’re sinkin’
Turns up still drinkin’
So high they get stuck
In the middle of blinks
With a knives at a gun fight, they might die
That’s alright, just try to get by
Fire words thinkin’ they’ll hurt
Churn my stomach
Ahh, the burn
They never learn
Squirmy, whiny…

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