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816 · Nov 2019
RED
Khushi Puthran Nov 2019
RED
When the sirens echoed through the streets

When they handcuffed me so that I wouldn’t hurt anybody

I pleaded for help but deaf ears heard my screams

“You are a monster” chanted the voices briefly.

All I could see was red.

When I noticed the knife I must have held,

A ****** canvas spilt on the floor, hands bled,

I saw her once again that moment,

Sitting right in front of me murmuring to herself.


Sad young girl, long blonde hair,

Pale white skin and stench of death,

Baring her jagged teeth

Scars on her body etched in flame,

Chipping away my insecurities bit by bit,

Playing with a sharp little blade,

“Just in Case” she said.

All I could see was red.

When they took me to prison,

Changed my clothes to white and red,

Triggering colors to my psyche,

I saw that clown yet again.

The one with a wide smile, masking nice.

I knew the nefarious intentions he hid,

Petrified, I bowed my head and cried.

All I could see was red.

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see it there,

Across the chamber,

On the wall up high

Working a trap with its leathery grisly little legs

When I stared at it,

Feeling the dread rise in my chest

It stared right back at me as if

Suddenly conscious of my presence,

It crawled its way over to me, daunting slowly,

The closer those creaking feet came to me,

Sinister voices of children giggling engulfed me.

I screamed for help once again and

This time a few voices of reality came back at me.

When I explained to them the monsters in my cell,

The crazy echoes I heard in my head,

“Madwoman” some called out but

Some reached out to help.

My life isn’t much different than yours.

We dream the same dreams,

Feel the same feelings.

The only difference being,

My nightmares blend with reality.

My life is a waking nightmare.

Through the battles I fought with my mind,

Ones I still fight each day,

I’m growing to embrace the clowns and spiders I see,

The same ones right here today.

Sometimes alone and sometimes with help,

All I see is red.

All I feel is red.
A poetry of a schizophreniac.
419 · Nov 2019
Untitled
Khushi Puthran Nov 2019
Waves that cry love,

rage within me,

crashing violently against your shore.

You hold me firmly for a second or two

Then gently, through your fingers

Let me slip through.

You know,

I will come back to you.

The stars gather across the night sky,

To witness our love

As you and I form a rhythm,

Breath against breath,

Your chest against mine,

The music of our heart beats

Synchronize.

Reaching the depths of my dark soul,

You unravel me,

Stripping each layer,

Worship me.

Unhinged by the expectations of the world,

I’ve never felt so beautifully naked

In my own skin.

— The End —