Let the creatures of the night
Crawl into your mind
Inject their kaleidoscopic venom
Through the transmitters of your brain
And send you on a trip to utopian wasteland

My eyes weren't burned blind with hot oil
I am not a brainwashed cult member
I do not think ignorance is bliss
And I see lies and truth as night and day
Some people speak to me
Like I've never walked outside my door
As if the truth could **** me
"But I'll tell you anyway"
We've all heard that one before
I know what's happening
I know that I am not the only person you're seeing
I know that you're vicious in your animalistic ways
The animalism that society identifies as "manly"
I'm sure others have received the text
The phone call
The words that make us feel needed
The words that make me feel like I am doing something I want to do
Even if I don't
I know that you're not perfect
I know that your mind is obsessive
And compulsive
And meticulous like neat stacks of paper
Or freshly cut grass
I still don't know how you value me
As a person
As an object
As a heart
As a brain
It could be any of the listed above
And even though you're not the perfect gentleman
I understand that people aren't perfect
I'm not blind to your mistakes
No one is covering my ears
Or hindering my senses
The truth is right in front of me
You are the truth
People look at me
As if I am an orphaned child
A recent widow
Still in denial because of the trauma
That life has presented to us
I know that you can be horrible
Cruel and abusive
At the same time
I know you can make me feel like the only person who has ever rested in your arms
And even if I'm not the only one
I know I'm not the only one
I accept it
Because your presence makes me feel better about myself
Your face motivates me to do well in all I do
Your body encourages me to run for miles and do hundreds of lunges
Maybe I'm using you just as much as you may be using me
We're messed up and mortified and scarred
"You can do better" they say
"You deserve someone who will treat you like a princess because you're intellectual and pretty"
What if I don't want that
What if all I want is to complacently stay
In a place that I don't necessarily belong
But it feels right
So I do
And that's why they think I'm blind
Senseless

Torn by societal views of right and wrong
The voices that once spoke to me are nothing but a long droning sound
Schizophrenics on a city bus screaming about being kidnaped and ***** and abandoned
Mad men on the street banging on a mirror
Yelling "*******!" only to say it to themselves
And self loathing isn't specific to the mentally ill
Or maybe it is
Perhaps we're all mental
Scars of teenagers disguised with bracelets
Bruises covered in foundation
Violence and danger and pain
Self inflicted
Glass glided against gentle skin
Blood oozing out
Only to produce a temporary high on endorphins
But still
A man banging on a mirror
"I hate you" he screams
"I hate you!"
Do we all hate ourselves
And resort to different means of coping
Risky ***
8 tabs of acid
a 27 hour trip
Terrified in spirals of rainbows and skeletons
Angrily playing the piano
Producing music that may as well be spun gold
Mozart's Sonata No.12 in F Major
Perfection
Not out of willingness
Out of angriness
Self expression
Expression from pain
We stare at violent images in museums and accept them as art
Maybe they're really a cry for help
Maybe the piece is meant to say "Help me, I'm dying in my mind."
But we are too ignorant and blind and we think its imagination
And it's really reality
Prozac Nation was not made for consumption
Nor for profit
Because I can assure you that millions of people are changed by that book
And it's not like Twilight or Harry Potter
It's more
It's the honest truth
What everyone thinks they are but aren't
The poem you're reading right now
May be the cry for help I speak of
The issue however remains
A close minded society that doesn't want to accept the fact that so many of us are suffering

Starting again
I’m up to brew four cups of coffee
I add sugar generously to the dark liquid
A splash of half and half creams the bitter brew

As I stir the coffee, my mental alarm goes off
The alarm that reminds me that today is a new day
That there are things to be done
Possibilities out there

I wake up
Previously retained by the gift of rest
And, I breathe
I’m now awake