I've been running away,
Disoriented and tired
Delirious and lost and losing
And no matter what I try,
Caffeine, drugs, all of the above
I can't get rid of him anymore.
Now I've gone for days
Without any sleep at all
Because he wouldn't let me,
Lucifer won't, you see?
He doesn't want me to know what's real.
Without that fragile wall
That Castiel tore down
To protect my soul against
The repressed memories
Of my days in the cage,
It's all coalescing together,
Reality and insanity.
Lucifer's trapped in my head
And he's doing all he can
To make my life a literal
Hell on earth...
But I still know what's not real.
Lucifer acts childishly,
Singing the same song
Fifty times over and over,
He taunts and teases me,
Laughing, yelling, grinning,
He makes my head hurt badly,
Puts maggots in my meal,
Conjures fantastic hallucinations,
And he morphs himself into
Basically everyone I see
Until I don't know who to trust...
But I know he's not real.
Lucifer wants me to be awake
For this entire damn nightmare.
He lights firecrackers,
And screams on a bullhorn
And screeches and complains
And makes all sorts of noises
Whenever I'm drifting to sleep
To keep me from succumbing
To the eternal oblivion of sleep
To keep me awake and half-dead
And to keep my head decaying fast...
But he's not real...is he?
Now I'm deteriorated, twitchy,
An insomniac, all messed-up,
And apparently mentally unstable.
I've always been broken anyway,
This might be the final straw
So maybe it's better that I stay
Here in this mental hospital
Maybe I'll be cured here, Dean
Or maybe I won't be forever.
But you can't save me anymore
And I can't risk myself out there
I'm a danger to everyone, Dean...
I don't know what's real.
Now Lucifer won't take me alive
He wants me cold and dead
From starvation, dehydration,
From insanity, and lack of sleep.
He wants to drag me back—
And maybe I should let him.
But I'm not crazy.
I'm not crazy.
I'm not.
You're not real.
You're not real.
You're not real.
You're not real.
You're not real...
YOU ARE READING
To My Wayward Sons (Supernatural Poetry)
PoetrySupernatural poems that I write when all the: -massive emotional damage -overwhelming crack -severe obsession -rare inspiration -demon possessing me is too much to handle. 50% feels, 50% crack, 100% trash. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here! ××× ...