Paranoia


Paranoia

I let this house grow dark around me

I count these minutes by the songs I am listening to

Because the music makes it almost bearable

Why is it always emotion?

Why is its name so often terror or rage?

I wait for my skill to fill up the page

But anarchy is staging a coup in my brain

Racing thoughts

Determined not to be caught

Go off like gun shots

And I can’t grasp a single thing

And we wonder why

Kids are committing suicide

In this world of “mental illness”

With not a moment of stillness

It’s the prison of this palace

Or absence of life

Give me a moment…

No. Not good enough

Why do I feel like there are men with guns?

At the top of observatories

I don’t trust anything

Because I see angels as killers

With blood on their wings

And demons as brothers

To these white wicked things

Am I twisted?

Or is the world we live in?

The answers tears a laugh from my throat

It’s both

But no one is locking me up tonight

It’s the ones who have been defeated

Who really know how to fight

And the fact that we all seem sick

Just means that normal?

We’re it

And it’s always been true

You’re not paranoid

If they are actually following you

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2 comments on “Paranoia

  1. wymry says:

    I really like this poem. I think my favorite lines are –
    Because I see angels as killers
    With blood on their wings
    And demons as brothers
    To these white wicked things

    Liked by 1 person

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