I try to scream-
No sound comes out.
"Insanity," they shake their heads
and say.
But why
is it crazy
to tremble or struggle
when my demons
come out to play?
This padded room
proves heartless
to my cries of fear
both night and day.
The drugs
forced down my throat
only feed the monsters,
never scare them away.
Maybe
I'm better off seeing them.
Of us two,who's the sane one
anyway?
YOU ARE READING
Sane
PoetryA collection of the fragmented bits of poetry and prose my soul is made of.