In the mirror you make no glisten
yet you are so real
and I still have to listen;
my reality, my dreams steal
My mind binds me
away from trusting;
why must I not speak
to the only things that amount to something?
Why are you so quiet?
Silence eats at my insides
anxiety bites
my stomach, decaying matter resides
My infectious disease
quite ugly, pain filling with ******
You ruined me, I miss your thrills
left my tongue with stretch marks from abundance of pills...
Poem for a schizophrenic friend....
Or is it for me?