Wednesday, April 8, 2015

A poem by author/poet GARY G PELOW, I do not understand.

Today I saw him again, that hallucination of a person following me, trying to attack me, or was he real?  If so what does he want from me? Why do they appear to me? I am surrounded by enemies where ever I go, I am scared in my psychosis and the things that I see frighten me.  Why do they crowd me, my enemies? I seek to know the truth of reality or lack of it. I do not want to be hurt or harrassed, by these evil phantoms that pursue me. What the fuck is reality any way? Is it just in our brains or is the universe real in its infinity, my hands are shaking, the first symptom of a nervous break down, a break from reality into psychosis and fear, these demons of the dead haunt me, I have no evidence, it is best to keep it close to my vest these schizophrenic delusions and paranoia, hallucinations and suspicion, no one will help or are unable to.  We all act the same parts with different faces, no one will care or listen to me.  How do I relate to others of twilight psychoses, I can not run, they are everywhere and I am lone.

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