You can’t imagine the things I have seen

You can’t imagine my dreams

you can’t think like me in every way

I am unique, I pave the way

I maybe distant

sometimes obtuse

I sometimes let loose

my fears and anger prangs

like a car hitting a wall

but I hold as much truth as you all

See I am schizophrenic

I hear voices

But don’t despair

I see choices

they hang in the air

I have been broken

I don’t expect you to always care

I doggedly battle on

Cause I still know right from wrong

even with whispers and shouts in my mind

I fight to be human and to be kind

Though I suffer with paranoia

the darkness which destroys

I love life enough to stay here and not be destroyed

so don’t have pity

Let me speak and write and sing

because I know sadness is a painful muse

but creativity is my thing.

I come from a lost home

I come from

A lost home

my psychosis at 16

two years of hell

Dad and mum threw me out

My roots broken

Then Living in hostel

With Creaking fire safe doors

council estate yellow bricks and concrete

Dirty mirky stained glass windows

looking out on the world

Not a church

where I would fashion ideals

But a place I could be at peace and reshape my soul

Even in a place which had a

scent of old burnt out cigarettes

Smokey stained furniture

like an old fashioned bed and breakfast

The kitchen smelt of convenience.

Packs of chicken and beef super noodles

Boiling in a pan.

This is where freedom started

Hope in the darkness

Grey days but sometimes occasional sun

Dance music blaring from my boom box

a CD player in my room

chemical brothers basement jaxx tracks

Paper and pen

Penning poems

finding myself

I still loved a girl called Becky

who didn’t love me

I gave up,drinking as my mental health was suffering

Giving up the poison

for my own piece of mind.

The hero is known as the villain

The hero is known as the villain

Schizophrenia is chilling

in my mind

unkind thoughts strain

hurt by incandescent pain

A voice that chains my soul

yet in the distant soul an angel calls me

the only way I can get to you is time

and living out this life of madness and grime

Dreamers disease

You never see my pain

behind the cold rain

I hide them all the same

A so called weirdo

I don’t choose to be schizophrenic

it’s God’s epidemic

when the cave man called to the divine

when he spoke to the trees

as gods when he believed

did you think the ones who didn’t believe

tormented him yes they probably did

but without looking outside our shell

we can’t see heaven or hell

and if you don’t look science as well.