Insane
I may be insane,
but I still have a name.
No matter how long I scream,
or how deep the cuts bleed,
the insanity stays inside me.
The strange perplexities that make me, me.
That little voice in my head,
that tells me what is to be said.
That dark little voice,
it takes away my choice.
The pills that set everything aglow,
they disappeared, long ago.
The protective parents, that are supposed to care,
they vanished into thin air.
So, I am left alone, with this voice,
without a name, without a choice.
I am insane,
and trapped behind a one-way glass pane.