Schizophrenia

I stare at the pitch black corner,

My protruding shoulder blades

Facing the door that only

Opens when it's forced to feed me,

But food will not quench my

Undying knowledge. They're out to

Get me; they're trying to kill me.

They're watching me. The FBI,

NSA, the drones in the sky. The doctors

Say they're protecting me from my own

Mind, but I know the food they're

Trying to feed me is poisoned, so I don't

Eat. Each day, my bones become sharper

And the scars on my skin become

Deeper. I know this is a trick. If I eat,

I will die. I need to stay strong. The voices

In my head are the only ones that care

Whether or not I live. They have always

Been there for me. I cannot desert them.

My body may be withering and slipping

Away from my own grasp, but the voices

Still boom and yell for my protection.

They still treat me like I'm human even

When the world thinks I'm crazy.