By John White
Why am I in here? Why can’t I be normal?
Too many times have I heard a medic at the doorbell.
I’m tired of this shit, I’m never coming back.
I’m going to live my life, and cut out all this crap.
Too many hospitalizations, so many pills.
All just because they labeled me ill.
They throw me prescriptions, so many to take.
They’re trying to fix me. I didn’t know people break.
So what do I do? Where do I go from here?
If I go home I know I’ll live in fear.
What is there to fear? They say home is safe.
I’m afraid of myself and what I do in that place.
At night the thinking starts and I’m left all alone.
This place is my house but it sure isn’t home.
Every room holds a memory of some sort of pain.
I try not to think but I can’t stop my brain.
I want it to slow but it kicks in full gear.
The thoughts flood in and make me hate what’s in the mirror.
I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be happy.
It’s hard to laugh when you always feel crappy.
I want to be happy. I want the pain to go away.
Why does it want so badly to stay?
For too long has it been a guest in my brain.
It has taken control. Piloted my plane.
I want it gone. I want it to crash and burn.
This time without me, no longer a passenger.
Then I could live again and make something of myself.
No longer trapped in my own home-made hell.
I’ve survived all the crashes, now I’m left with the scars.
They just need time to heal, then I can shoot for the stars.