my mother insists that my poems on schizophrenia can truly open peoples minds to the illness and what having it is really like. so here we go, another schizophrenia poem.
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it’s difficult to care when your own mind is your enemy
trying to see through the paranoia, the hallucinations, the anxiety

when medications don’t work you do things you shouldn’t have
just trying to rid these fears anyway you can

you feel like a whore selling your body for money
only your selling it for drugs to bring temporary relief

the hallucinations shout, scream and cuss at you
all the negativity directed at you makes it tough to not have a “fuck you” attitude

paranoia hits so hard you don’t have anyone to trust
and you feel like a coward, afraid of your reality in disgust

and you better be born with a good brain in your head
otherwise this illness puts you in prison, on the streets, or dead