Insanity is my sanity.

Stop controlling my thoughts

You’re reading my mind

but can you see

bloody slime on my wall?

Your crimson fingers

claw my insides in vain,

you write rouge words

crawling through my brain

My reddened world

is nonexistent to you.

The only difference is

you’re crazy, I’m insane.

It’s not my fault

that you’re normal –

it’s out of my realm

because bad thoughts

rap on my skull.

For I am insanity -

The voice is mine

tiptoeing on the edge

of my reality.

I think I’m all powerful

but I’m reduced to zero

as I drop my sanity

in my mind’s ploughed field.

I draw my cloak tightly

against howls of red wolf,

feeling his sounds

slake my skin.

I can hear what you said,

so I’ll kill you dead

and smear your blood

all over the ceilings.

I’ll stitch up your mouth

in crisscross patterns

so I can’t hear you squawk,

watching the blood

well through your shirt.

Your broken veins

seep languidly through

my hanging thoughts,

dangling from jumbled knots.

I hear the voices of demons

coming out of my head.

I’m not insane - sounds are real

Claret cardinal pecks at my nose

and scratches my eyes,

waiting on sanguine horizon,

as you call me crazy

fearing we are the same

while I crawl on all fours

into your mind.

If the car starts first try it's going to be a good day.

Okay, if it starts second try then it's going to be a good day.

Alright then, if there are no cars at the first intersection it's going to be a good day.

If I don't have to stop at the next set of lights she will be nice to me today.

Okay, if I can avoid changing to second gear at the next set of lights she will be nice to me today.

Alright then, if I can avoid first gear for the next two intersections she will be nice to me today.

If I can avoid looking in the rear-view mirror for thirty seconds then she actually likes me. Nailed it!

If I can hold my breath from the time I park the car to when I sit at my desk it's still going to be a good day. 

Yes!

If she's standing at the coffee machine when I go there then she likes me.

No, scrap that one.

If she talks to me before 10 am then we will get married someday.

Okay, if she talks to me before lunch time we will get married someday.

Alright then, if she talks to me before 4 pm we will get married someday.

Okay backtrack...

If I drive home and stop at no more than three intersections then she will definitely talk to me tomorrow.

    The cashier was slow. Mild autism or anxiety based on his mannerisms and rattled eyes. Why was he looking at me like that? I could hear the people in line whispering about the things I was buying I know they were. I like corn flakes. Trudy prefers oatmeal. Mother adores raisins. Had they nothing better to do than whisper crude things and eavesdrop? 

    "What do you want?" I ask the old woman behind me. She pretended not to know what I was talking about. The audacity. I know she was snickering when I had reached for coins in my pocket and dropped them. The whole store could probably hear the change clattering on the floor. A lady in the bread isle laughed when I did. They were all watching me. The cameras were pointed at me I swear. Any moment security would be called on me and they'll take me away to the same place they took Uncle Kevin. No no no no no I am nothing like him, mother always said. Why are they looking at me like they did him then? I have something in my teeth I know it, that must be it. 

    The cashier handed me my bags and I walked out. People were standing at the door, they didn't want me to leave I could tell. It was a trap. The kid who bumped into me in the cereal isle was walking out ahead of me. An informant. The little rat bastard. The whispers followed me out. They're going to know where I live if I go home. I can't let them. Don't go home. I can't let them.

You’re okay, yes, okay, fine. Good, we’re good. See, yes. Walk, slowly, gently, a light step. You’re happy, Smile, no too much, less, less. LESS. Yes there, That there. Who’s that? Why is he looking, he see me, who he be? Stop looking, stop looking. Stop, now, no not walking, stop looking. He sees it. He sees it, he sees our looking. Why, why, no, he knows us. See the smile, the loose lips, the white teeth. He bares them. Like a dog. Pat his head, good boy. NO! No, no, with words, speakings, what is it? What is it? Pleasantries. Yes, yes Pretty words. Soothing, happy, friends. Wait… is he a friend? Is that his knowing? He knows, yes. That’s it. Say the words, the pretty ones.

“Hey, how’s it going?

“Fine Jesse. How are you?

See, see, there, he knows us, yes, for sure. His name, his name, his calling… Frank, frank? Frank…. Yes. No…yes? Yes!

“I am good Frank, but you know how it is…” Smile, the sad one, not happy, NOT HAPPY, there there. See. Yes. Good good. Break away, away, TO THE HILLS! Escape, get gone. No, no, he doesn’t get it. Be gone. No him, BE GONE.

“I am sorry to hear that Jesse, it your mother? I hear she is sick and in the hospital.”

Is it? Is that the problem? No, no, not the problem, yes, she is a problem, sure. Yes. But not our problem, not anymore, die, die, go, leave me. Sick, sure sick, she is sick. Right? No, no, we made her sick… did we? Yes! No? No matter, free, we are free. But agree, agree, we have taken too long. Looks bad, not good, we are sad, upset. Go, say the thing, the words.

“Yes, Frank. They say the coma looks bad, she might not wake up.” Good, yes, happy about that. No! don’t smile, you are sad. Remember. Sad, not happy, opposite, reverse. Leave, break away, I don’t like, Jerk. Idiot. Stupid face. I hate him, I hate people. Get away.

“It was good seeing you Frank.” No it wasn’t, stupid jerk face. “But I need to go, see you later.” True, true, not false, need to get, to flee. Away.

“See you later Jesse.” No, please, I will not. Idiot, stupid questions. He knows… no he doesn’t, yes. No. Make him sick too. No, bad, too many. Dad is gone, sick first, now mom. Not good, not good. They will know. No, stupid, they already know. You don’t know, but they do. Words float about, they say things, they know things. They watch you and spread their true, their falsehood. Flee, leave. Bus, remember , the bus, then the train, we leave. Go, gone, not here.

Slow, not fast, speedy is not good, looks bad. No hurry, nothing to see.

No, stupid. Another stupid, IDIOT, moron. Leave me, don’t see, don’t look. NO! she saw me, leave me. Go. NO! she is coming, walking this way. No, no, no.

“Hey Jesse, how are you doing? Heading somewhere?”

“The place, with the thing.” Wait… wait, the words are wrong. Those aren’t right, wrong, wrong, no no no. Different words, need different words. STUPID! Her dumb face mess me up. Hit her, hit her stupid face. Moron, looks dumb, stupid look hangs off her face. It needs to be hit back, into place. HIT HER. Closed fist, hard knuckles need to bite, to snap. Again, hit her again, harder. Stupid still, dumber now. Again, to the ground, to ground, kick, foot to face. Into place, make it right. Rid her of her stupid, her dumb look. It grips her still, clings to her neck. Gone, get it gone. Again. Again.

Again.

Wearing my lab coat from the day before, I trudge into the kitchen, my hairless cat, Brad Pitt, trailing behind me. I start a pot of coffee and pour myself some cereal. I pour some milk into a bowl for Brad Pitt and dump the contents of the coffee pot into my cereal. Cereal in hand, I transition to the garage where my test subjects are waiting. I sedate the protesting mouse and use my tools to carefully remove its brain. As I cut apart the rest of the mouse, I feel giddy. But my had doesn't stray from my work. I work cautiously and silently. Poor wittle mousy wousy. Haha. Finally I step back and admire my handiwork. Each of the mouse's organs are laid out neatly directly above the place on the mouse's carcass where they would have been, were they still attached. I leave my empty cereal bowl on the table next to my mouse friend and leave through the front door. If don't want to get caught, I better leave now while the residents are still asleep.