I'll try and write you a poem,
but I don't think it'll be great,
somehow I've lost my touch,
to get words to formulate.

I have tried,
to write a few,
but non have been good.

So this time,
I'll try again:

Running from monsters,
I cannot see,
I hear them scream,
they taunt me.

Their voices echo,
in my head,
telling me,
I'd be better off dead.

I wish I'd,
never been born,
such agony,
I've never experienced before.

I wish for pain,
to drive me closer,
to a decision,
for it to be over.

Their little smirks,
push me,
their laughs are like nails,
piercing me.

So many times,
I want to break skin,
I burned in anger,
fueled from within.

So many times,
I thought of eternal sleep,
some recent,
look what they've done to me.

I try to cloak it,
but it just comes back,
like a scar after,
there's been a gash.

It's funny how,
I can hide my face,
cover it with make up,
to hide this disgrace.

The monsters,
I realize,
aren't a dream,
they are other me's.

I can hide,
my pain with my eyes,
my smile masks,
my many lies.

I just can't accept,
the madness within,
I try to run,
but it will win.

Just give me some pills,
I'll make it go away,
I have no reason,
to stay anyway.

I try to hide thoughts,
through loud playing sons,
but even then,
it hurts us all.

I don't want to speak,
I cringe at the words,
I call myself things,
I still haven't learned.

I miss my nightmares,
its a mad world to me,
I can't try,
I can't escape me.

ZZZ....
Beeeeeep