Ok, this one is kind of old, but I was going through my pile of paper's after my release from Reasearch Psychiatric a few years ago and found this. Well, found and revamped this. Tell me what you think!
Nut House
I never promised you a rose garden,
I never told you angel tales,
I only showed the dank reality
Of try, fall, reach, flail, fail…
Again.
Faceted reflection of a thousand,
That I don’t recognize,
In the tempered will that they allow me
To view my disgrace
As the tears I never cried
Shatter on bare feet.
The Semblance slithers under the tombstone
Of repressed memories and symbolic psychoses,
Because in here it no longer matters,
In here they already know,
In here I can be as crazy as they say you are.
The sibilant hiss of revelation is like a drug
Sweet freedom of the hidden lust
To just be who?
Unreality.
Disturbed on unit in thin sheet robes,
As if this was really a hospital,
As if my sickness could be cured,
As if my violence could be hidden by,
Paper flower cloth.
Rain smeared lipstick on the outside,
Recreational glass kissed goodbye,
Because they know out there,
That the zombie will come out to play.
Sanity prison bars as a phsycho-ologist’s
Signature on yellow wallpaper parchment.
