Posted in poetry, Therapy

It’s not what you think…it’s therapy

AM I DETACHED?

My
how he has turned into a beast
Always
the center of attention

We are drifting like clouds
Not sure when he’ll be coming home
to stay

Sneezing down by the lakefront

She is taking a shower

The voices are driving him mad
The insanity is there now for sure
Until sleep comes
the monster is allowed to run free

Sleeping patterns are wild
Yet the sunlight glides through the hallways
every morning

Please no more pills now
Yet he cannot discontinue them
The pain is less extreme then some years ago
Trying to get back what has been lost
It’s still amazing to believe
Staples ran across the left side
Now a scar remains
A shaved head

Neurotic
Overanxious
Obsessive
He goes from happy to depressed multiple times daily
The hospital stay certainly messed with him
Yet no one sees it
Invisible pain
Whenever she walks away from him
He wants to cry

Feeling alone
To wish for no fights is unrealistic

Hate to be mentally off
Not knowing what to do
Love is a real feeling
Hating the way he feels right now
Because it hurts
Who is in control of these words being typed?
Can anyone read this wristwatch?

Going from pure boredom to too many options
What to choose
What to do
Weak with less muscular strength than before
Trying to get rest now but it is hard to do it
Needing to be in a safe and warm place
Loneliness is something he is confronting
Patience is what he needs to embrace

When alone
think of ways to help
Distractions that can really help out
Music to listen to
Movies and TV to watch
Games to play alone
Emails to write
Books to read
Naps to take
Food to eat
But most of all needing help

Isolation

Feel like going mad
Insanity creeps up wishing to be in control
Must not let the anguish consume him
Please make it go away
He’s a good and normal guy
Not too many years in a lifetime
They get shorter everyday

Please put me where I need to be, oh God!

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Author:

Writer, Poet and Music geek

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