Insanity

insanity - 8

I wonder; and the days are

all alike, if there is more

than one day. If there is more

of this I will not endure.

I remember reading that somewhere, some discarded, old book, they placed in my room; it was by some Phillip guy I think. It held something for me, I haven't really the slightest idea what it was, but my stomach knotted reading it, for will there be more of this, this uselessly waiting, staring and pondering; when will I not endure this, when will it be over; when will I be not subjected to the label of insanity.

I have grown so used to being

watched I can no longer sleep

without my watcher. The thing

I fought against, the dark cape,

crimsoned with terror that

I so hated comforts me now.

Hadn't I first been so frightened of being watched, but now so, I can comply to the nightmares of sleeping, the endless days of being watched, I too often wonder why something so dreadful comforts me now, why I can stand to try to sleep while they are watching me.

insanity,

prison, cowardice, or slow

inner capitulation

has found us all, and all men

turn from us, knowing our pain

is not theirs or caused by them.

Oh, this terrible insanity, causes my head to explode, but in the end, it was them who made me this way, they know my pain but they do not feel it; they caused such insanity upon me.