I keep trying to write something that grabs hold of the feeling of being in a psychosis–fully separated from reality in some horrible fashion. I don’t think I’ll ever fully be able to capture the experience, but hopefully some fragments of it made it onto this draft. -S
Pry them open to reality all flawed
time to see the breakdown.
Fragmented existence done in fractal recall
patterns contour the daily grind.
Never stable it will flow over you
vicious, merciless, and without care.
Trust nothing you hear or view
belief in yourself will be the only way through.
Find solid footing in personal identity
hold fast to it as the walls collapse.
Never accept what you remember
memory and truth are malleable.
Painted in a thousand shades of false
test yourself and survive.
Wiped out internally by the struggle
cleansed to nothingness, a relief.
Struggle harder and the pain will gather,
simpler by far to outlast it than fight.
Planes of existence and thought overlap
confusing rationality to no end.
Get gone boy
this is no game for children.
Sit back and let yourself be washed away
pray, pray, pray to any god listening
that it will end soon.
Sometimes they listen and sometimes they don’t,
but what have you got to lose?