Insanity Is the comfort of a pillow, used for suffocation.
Insanity Is the warmth of a gun, used for a death shot.
Insanity Is the enabler,
The barrier breaker,
The undertaker.

Insanity Is a safety zone.
Insanity Is a shield.
Insanity Is a guard for all to take part in it,
All who brush with it,
All who dwell in it.

Insanity Is the abstract thoughts, the rotund ways.
Insanity Is the thought that you can do anything.
Insanity Is the fact that people can question, can insult, can pry,
And they never seem to affect you,
And they never will.

Insanity Is a soft room, padded with cushy walls.
Insanity Is a group of people, who try to figure out what's wrong.
Insanity Is not quite knowing what's going on,
Having that privilege,
Having that power.

Insanity Is engulfing, a single being in itself.
Insanity Is the process of losing yourself.
Insanity Is the way you go when you just seem to snap,
Lucky enough to see nothing,
Lucky that everything goes black.

Who is mad?
Is it I?

But if I am mad then how aren't you?
Perhaps you are mad and I am sane

How does one know if one is sane?
How does one know if one is insane?

But is insanity a luxury?
Or is the luxury sanity?

What if one was sane but recognised the sanity as insanity?
Would one be insane then?

Or perhaps one was insane but to the eye insanity was sanity?
Would one be sane then?

What if sanity was insanity and insanity sanity?
Would the lack of clarity over insanity and sanity be but a normality?

Or is the true clarity that insanity is a normality?
For who is sane?

Is it I?
I, who dreams dreams and inner thoughts are most shy?

Who wakes when she sleeps
And sleep when she wakes?

Perhaps we are all in subdued insanity
If so isn't insanity a normality and sanity out clarity?

Or insanity is our clarity?
And sanity is a dreamed up notion for normality?

Who is mad?
Is it I?

Or the world in which there is no clarity over insanity and sanity?
And there is nothing but a formality which is normality which should or should not be insanity?