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Fighting For Control

By , Prospect, CT
Controlling me
Pulling me under
This insanity that is my life
Breath comes short
Tears come easy
Functioning comes at the expense of my sanity

Forgetting isn’t an option,
When this disease starts screaming in my mind
For it is my own mind that holds me captive
To these unending compulsive needs.

Does this make me crazy?
Or captive to a mind where the only voice is your own,
Twisted and mutilated, turned to the will of something alien?

Does this make me crazy?
When the paranoia sets in so the disease can feed
Its own needs; while stopping my ability to function,
To even breathe normally?

To fight means withdrawal.
Shaking, screaming, tears, paranoia.
Your own mind turned against you.
Trying to ruin whatever claim to sanity you may have left.


Live with it,
Deal with it.
As it annoys those around you
And drives you insane.

So does this make me crazy?
That something in my mind can cause so much pain?
That it is my own mind I cannot escape?

I did not choose this insanity.
I did not choose to feel helpless.
To be controlled by a disease that takes over
And makes my own mind alien to me,
My captor that tears my sanity to shreds until
I give in.

Is there an escape?
From this fear?
From these tears?
From never being able to let go?
Never being able to lose control?
And yet always losing control at the same time?

So,
Am I crazy?





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