CONCERNED

When did you last eat.

Have you taken all your meds;

how many hours did you sleep.

What is going on in your head.

Do you still have thoughts 

you sooner would be dead.

Four in the afternoon;

why are you in bed?

Had a sandwich yesterday.

I have now run out of bread.

Do not trust antipsychotics;

I will neither be suppressed nor led.

I must walk a path 

demons fear to tread.

What was the question?

I have completely lost the thread.

Slept for two hours this morning.

Last night, I wrote 

until my middle finger bled.

Tasted my triumph;

stained my journal red.

As for friends and family;

most of them, frustrated, fled.

Others voice concern, disturbed 

by powerful verse that they have read.

Ha!

You should see and hear the things

I keep locked away, unsaid.

ABOUT THE POEM: "Concerned was about a conversation with a mental health professional. I am under their care at present."

~

PSYCHOSIS

Stormful romantic 

passion no profanity.

I find it sacrilegious 

so many live so pallidly.

I devour gifts of knowledge 

with carnal voracity.

If this be perversion;

that is my concern, my calamity.

So blasphemously polite;

the level headed, the diplomatic.

My freakery is disturbance

to the silently pragmatic.

Expressions of excitement 

a psychosis perceived as problematic:

Facing criticism with valiancy.

No ordeal nor test could be traumatic.

Farcical, childish, joyful;

the frenzy of my vivacity.

Join the dance

shun societal morality.

Have a little fun with depravity.

Hurry, run, catch up!

I will show to you the bliss

within so called insanity.