The darkest humour,
A comedy
I’m laughing although it is killing me
You watch me bleed, yeah.

Brains don’t feel pain…

Especially daddy’s
When he had a tumour growing in it
Messed up his memory
Also, his sanity

Since then he cannot see
He went completely blind
Nerve cells rarely heal
Especially the ones that run to the eyes

Surprise
For two weeks
He felt it ill
Slight fever with no heat

He felt slightly weak
Then he woke up blind
Everything was dark
His optic nerves his tumour did find


He said everything was black
He flew out of the country
After a month, he came back
He didn’t die, alive was my daddy


Ten years, three months later
I put my pen to paper
I know I wouldn’t remember
‘Cause daddy and I don’t get better.


The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree
I am of my father
Dementia: him, schizophrenia: me
Isn’t it a laughter?

That’s my happily ever after...

seeing **** that isn’t there,
hearing **** that isn’t real,
memories can’t be trusted.
the shadow people,
that used to scare me,
now long to be dusted.
9 pills down the hatch,
9 pills swallowed to cure me.
they stick inside my throat,
“They’ll start to work soon,
Just be patient.”
as they write another note.
the doses start to increase,
my tongue starts to spasm.
my hands shake as well,
i thought these things
we’re supposed to heal me,
instead I’m in living hell.
“Benefits do outweigh
the horrible side effects”
is what the doctors say.
so I keep on taking them,
choking them down,
every night and day.
but the **** is still there,
i can see it, and I can hear it too.
its plain as day, staring at me.
it’s as real as me and,
wait. are you?

Into madness, fall from sadness,
Struggle just to be.
Is this illusion just a delusion?
This pain envelopes me.
My mind is tangled, heart is strangled,
My demons follow close.
Help me escape, wrapped in red tape,
You’re the demon that haunts me the most.
Leave my skin red and raw,
The scars, they never fade.
Always bleeding, always seething,
Shadows follow night and day.
The figures watch my every move,
Whispers flood my ears.
“I can’t drown my demons, they know how to swim”,
And they know my darkest fears.
The pills are supposed to heal my soul,
So I choke all of them down.
But the bugs still crawl under my skin,
Yet when I look they can’t be found.
I pull at my hair, checking if there
Is some proof that I am sane,
But ****** fingers always tell me,
The problem is in my brain.

Falling from my head
These thoughts that make us worry again
These thoughts that make us wonder again
These thoughts that make us
Falling from my head
This paranoia again
They’re watching us again
They’re always there to
Make me wonder
Am I safe?
Will they catch me?
Will they see?
It always makes me wonder
Can they hear me?
Can they see... Me?
Falling out of time
I dip and try to hide
From the monster I am inside
This monster growing
Makes me wonder,
Am I safe?
Will they catch me?
Will they see?
It always makes me wonder
Can they see?

Consume me,
I'm left feeling so empty.
The chemicals,
They make me feel worse.

Undo me,
It's only my reality.
The chemicals,
Daddy was the first.

I feel it,
But it is only me
The chemicals,
Can't act "normal" for you.

Ignore it,
Very well if you don't see
The chemicals,
Reality goes askew.

i smile
but the man in the corner
begs to differ
so i cry
and he, in turn
smiles.

the floor is cold
as i sit naked on it
knees to my chest
crying, weeping for days

and the voices get closer
and it comes to a ******
and then i take my medication
and go to work

no more noise
no more men
i brought her home
but forgot my medication

i slipped up again
i answered their question aloud
she ran
i never wanted to scare her
i just wanted to love her
but she ran like all the rest

i stared at the door
and i saw him flash in the corner
i turn
but he is nowhere

so i beg them to come back
but there is silence
and nothing more

When the sirens echoed through the streets

When they handcuffed me so that I wouldn’t hurt anybody

I pleaded for help but deaf ears heard my screams

“You are a monster” chanted the voices briefly.

All I could see was red.

When I noticed the knife I must have held,

A ****** canvas spilt on the floor, hands bled,

I saw her once again that moment,

Sitting right in front of me murmuring to herself.


Sad young girl, long blonde hair,

Pale white skin and stench of death,

Baring her jagged teeth

Scars on her body etched in flame,

Chipping away my insecurities bit by bit,

Playing with a sharp little blade,

“Just in Case” she said.

All I could see was red.

When they took me to prison,

Changed my clothes to white and red,

Triggering colors to my psyche,

I saw that clown yet again.

The one with a wide smile, masking nice.

I knew the nefarious intentions he hid,

Petrified, I bowed my head and cried.

All I could see was red.

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see it there,

Across the chamber,

On the wall up high

Working a trap with its leathery grisly little legs

When I stared at it,

Feeling the dread rise in my chest

It stared right back at me as if

Suddenly conscious of my presence,

It crawled its way over to me, daunting slowly,

The closer those creaking feet came to me,

Sinister voices of children giggling engulfed me.

I screamed for help once again and

This time a few voices of reality came back at me.

When I explained to them the monsters in my cell,

The crazy echoes I heard in my head,

“Madwoman” some called out but

Some reached out to help.

My life isn’t much different than yours.

We dream the same dreams,

Feel the same feelings.

The only difference being,

My nightmares blend with reality.

My life is a waking nightmare.

Through the battles I fought with my mind,

Ones I still fight each day,

I’m growing to embrace the clowns and spiders I see,

The same ones right here today.

Sometimes alone and sometimes with help,

All I see is red.

All I feel is red.

This anxiety,
is making me anxious.
Feeding itself,
until it becomes dangerous.

It’s PTSD,
of some varying degree.
Each startup and failure,
taking its toll on me.

The inability to remember,
the pain and the fear.
Forgetting the scars,
that should be so clear.

The voice in your head,
reassuring you.
Saying this time will be different,
when you know it’s not true.

Louder and louder,
till it starts to scream.
Your anxiety grows,
and splits at the seam.

Then you give in,
letting go at last.
The voice takes control,
and repeats the past.

Another, another!!
It screams in a growl.
More, more!!
A predator on the prowl.

Then it is gone,
and you’re just floating there.
Trying to make sense of things,
trying to be aware.

Then it all crashes down,
and you’re drowning in hate.
You’re full of self loathing,
and memories that exacerbate.

Now the long road ahead,
seems to have no end.
Your chest hurts so bad,
and the tremors set in.

You can’t eat or sleep,
so you traumatize your brain.
You’re scared you might die,
but you’re more scared of the pain.

Four days and you’re better,
but the memories end.
Then that tiny voice,
starts to whisper again.

Over and over,
rinse and repeat.
Slowly killing yourself,
for a small fix of heat.

This ****’s been going on,
for far too long.
It took me talking to him,
to know something was wrong.

It started as a whisper,
so quiet and weak.
I could force it to silence,
without having to speak.

Then my mind and body,
started to waste.
He started to gorge,
and fell in love with the taste.

My slow decline,
was the foothold he needed,
and his tendrils grew,
where I didn’t know they were seeded.

His control grew bigger,
till it shadowed my mind,
and the whiskey fog I was in,
had simply turned me blind.

Then one day I was through,
enough was enough.
I was going to take control,
I had to be tough.

That was the first time,
that he spoke to me,
and that “no” was enough,
to finally make me see.

I tried and I tried,
again and again,
crying through his laughter,
trying to pour him out through a pen.

He was poison,
like a cancer you see.
He was killing us both,
but everyone just blamed me.

Then one day I realized,
I couldn’t get rid of that voice.
To do that meant death,
and that wasn’t a choice.

He’s a part of me,
but disconnected too.
A bystander to the hell,
that he’s putting me through.

Now every day is a struggle,
to quiet his voice.
Trying to convince myself,
that I do have a choice.

So he’s here to stay,
the monkey on my back.
The ominous stranger,
who calls himself, Jack.

standing in line
for mail
at the homeless shelter downtown
get a stamp…or
two?
letters
that fill her hand she’s writing
to the FBI
writing to the CIA
the DEA  
perhaps the NSA
wonder
what she wrote?

some days
she tells
of shadow people who plot
and scheme
she hides from
ghosts
and their attacks
they track her
she hides
inside a dream
or more accurately, constant nightmare.

she talks to people in the air
rambled words
furtive glances
she listens  
what are the words that are being said
but then
who cares
no one knows those words
just Crazy Mary.