I keep saing I'm sad because I hate myself.
I'm betraying the truth, though I do have that sense of self.
I'm sad because I'm alone, and I'm afraid to be alone.
I'm scared no one will be there when I'm grown.
I'm betrayed by myself, my alienating behaviour.
What I really need is a personable saviour.
To talk me out of this nonsense, this bull.
Someone with good sense, who can make me full.
Full of joy, full of love, full of hope, full of fullness.
I'm sick of being hollow, having this sickness.
So please someone save me, for I cannot save myself.
I await the arrival of yourself.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry from the Psych Ward
PoetryFor twenty-five days I stayed in a "behavioral medicine facility" for being suicidal. During my final days I began to write poetry to pass the time. These are twenty of those poems.
