A free verse poem that doubles as a plea for the restoration of my sanity (and triples as a basic outline of my love life)

Perhaps We Should Leave's picture

I feel like it's pretty fucked up that when
I watch Adventure Time
The character I get
More than anyone else
is the Ice King
The guy that nobody likes
Who just doesn't get
the way that people work
Who started out pretty well
until his life went to hell
cuz he started to lose his mind
and suddenly I notice that mine
is slipping away
more and more
as the screaming starts to drown myself out
I feel so trapped inside my mind
when I can't hear a thing
that I think
and I wonder if I'm starting to slip
And I wonder if I know anything
at all
Because the more that I look
around me I see
that I'm never quite sure
about the people I know
Do they love me?
Hate me?
Want to forget me?
Want to be my friend?
Want to see me dead?
Can I trust what I see
when I can't hear myself think
and I'm increasingly unsure
of what they tell me is real
I know the voices aren't real
That's what I'm supposed to say
But if they're not
why is it that sometimes
I think they're not just my thoughts
Are they a memory
like my therapist says they are
are they a throwback to nights
where I would scream out in pain
cry for help
when I was being raped
And I wonder sometimes
How can I be sure that it happened?
When I can't trust my mind
to tell me what I am hearing
(or so they tell me)
Can it be that it didn't happen at all?
Did I make it up?
Did I somehow pretend
so hard I started to believe it?
But why would I pretend?
Why would I hear
these screams every day
every night
until they cripple me with pain?
Am I insane?
Can I trust myself?
And if I can't trust my own mind
can I trust anyone else?
Will it come to pass that one day
I won't even remember
who I was when I wrote this
and everyone will think
That I'm some evil crazy person?
The screams never stop
they just get louder and louder
and I want them to get away from me
but it seems like a memory
the days that I didn't hear the sound
of pain everlasting.
Am I hearing the pain of
the people around me?
The secret parts of their minds
that surround me?
Or am I just dreaming a dream I can't wake up from?
I want someone to help me
I want someone who knows
but apparently the screaming
isn't a particularly common symptom of thought
Maybe it's a memory,
maybe I'm just nuts
maybe I am sane but keep my sanity a secret from myself
Maybe who I was before is lost to the ages
and I'll never see the face of that little girl again
I just want some friends
but I always lose them.

Help me?
Is anyone out there?
Can anyone hear me?
Can anyone hear the screams?
Am I really insane?
Or am I just alone in my sanity?
Who am I?
Who are you?
I just want some friends.
I'm so terribly lonely.
My only friend is my lover,
and that's really so lovely
But sometimes I need some other friends.
Help me
Help me
Help me
Help me
Help me
I'm lonely.

Talk to me?

Say anything?

Help me

I really love everyone.
I really do.
I want to make people happy
and I want to make them know
that they're valued
if for no other reason
than because I love them.
Every life is precious
and I cry when people die.
I don't like to hear about accidents
I hate the statistics
because I know that people just hear a number
but I hear the families
I hear the friends.
'Thank god only two people died'
that's no comfort to me
Two people's families are mourning
And I feel that pain
I can't do anything and I know that
but I hate when death's a number
because I love everyone
and I wish I could make them know
that they're loved.

Can't anyone hear me?

Help me please.
Someone tell me that you hear them too
Please someone tell me I'm not alone
Please someone tell me that they're real
and I'm not insane
and I'm not slipping away.

I love him more than anyone
more than myself
I practically live with him
and I'm happier than I've ever been
And he loves me too
and when I become a child
he comforts me despite his own problems
and while he doesn't hear them
he understands the pain
of the millions of screaming voices
as best as he can
and when I become a child
he's there to hold me.
He teaches me things
how to knit and stuff like that
and he tells me I'm good at sex
(no matter how many people say it I don't think I'll ever believe it)
which is nice of him.
He didn't get mad at me
when I got high
and got fucked
(cuz his friend was high too and we were stupid and weren't thinking)
I guess because I asked his permission first
but seriously
He's beautiful and wonderful
and doesn't lie to me.
He's not a sociopath
like the others I have loved
and he doesn't mind how sick I am
and the things I've done.
I repeat
he doesn't mind the things I've done

But still I'd like a friend.

And still i'd like to feel like I'm not slipping away.
And I know he'll stay with me even once I'm long gone

And that's comforting.

He isn't perfect
Neither am I
but he loves me and I love him
(more than I love me and that's a lot [you vain, beautiful girl])

And that's wonderful.

He knows I'm full of shit but listens to me anyways.

So at least I'll be an ice king with a princess who loves him
(he's my princess boy)

But I would like to be someone with a mind that remembers
what's real
and what's not

and I'd like there to be a moment of silence
where the screams aren't there.

Someone say something?
Someone say they're real?
Someone say I'm not mad?

And mean it?



Dracofangxxx's picture

my favourite part

I hate the statistics
because I know that people just hear a number
but I hear the families
I hear the friends.

i like your writing

Perhaps We Should Leave's picture


I feel like my writing got better when I stopped trying to make it rhyme. :P

* * *

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
and miles to go before I sleep,
and miles to go before I sleep.