53----> Asylum

Welcome to the
Asylum. Please excuse the
Corpses on the Floor. The hearse will
Be here soon to
Take them to their
Graves.

The air is so stale.
Vomit and starvation linger in the air, a satisfactory
Result of the Eating disorder patients’
Daily habits.
The heating units are fueled with
Blood, the self injurers spilled
A little extra.
Schizophrenics grasp the railings, conversing
With their imaginary friends in
French. The “just plain
Insane” patients just sit there and
Laugh.

There’s living human wallpaper, isn’t it
Lovely?
Wallflower has a new meaning.
“In a kind of demented way.”

(How This♥Began)
How I got into the
Asylum is a
Rather funny story.

[My skin was itching,
I was nervously twitching]
My heartbeat was nonexistent, to me,
Healing was a weakness. A certain type of tightness was
Hurting my chest, pretty much a
Mental heart attack.
All sounds were silenced by my pain, besides
The sweet sound of blood rushing through
My veins.
Images of sap bleeding down from
Cut tress filled my mind, it was
Everywhere.
“Can’t get it out of my head.”

The numb began to vibrate through my senses, shutting
Everything off, but then
Exploding with a sudden
Release.
My heartbeat was present, but was also
Fading away again.
“Something is wrong with me.”

(The After♥Effects)
Its the sanitation nation.
My insides are ancient in this white walled room.
I’m coughing up dust.
I walk these halls alone at night. I
Drag along my concrete legs across
The floor tiles. They match
The dried blood on my arms.
“It was an accident.”

The insane try to make the discomforting
Hallways beautiful.
“There’s nothing beautiful about this place.”
Pretend we are dancing through fields
Of flowers, the tiles are our
Soil, the walls our baby blue
Sky, the wires and needles our
Roses.

Yesterday, I tried tearing a hole through
The brick wall separating me from the
Outside world with IV needles.
I imagined myself stepping through the
Debris, spreading my hospital gown wings,
And flying onto the street below.
Finally free. Then I
Woke up and found myself
Laying on the floor next to the
Window.

During the day I walk to the end
Of this corridor to where the big, glass window
Looks out. But every day it looks
The same;
“Why is it always gray?”
My eyes stare, wide open and they’re
Beginning to frost over, never closing.



Apparently in the so-called “doctor’s” view,
We might happen to
Commit suicide. But only at
Night.
“Fuckers.”
So the nurses come in at the
Exact same
Second every night and in goes the
IVs, monitor pads are stuck to
Pale and
Collapsed chests, (and whatever other pointless
Shit that will give them a false sense of security.)
“Selfish.”

The starched sheets are so
Constricting, beeping from the
Monitors threaten to tattle
If I try anything (crazy?)
Sometimes,
I play games.
Face down on the bed, I disconnect the
Wires and tubes, and wait
For the nurses to come and play my
Game with me.
“I play dead because it gives me a sense of accomplishment.”

They (who?)
Sent me to be better, to finally
Live, but death is in the
Air here.

My breath is shallower and the
Air is thicker somehow.
The curtains drawn around my bed are wearing
Down, becoming transparent.
The field of roses tilts up at me and our sky
Seems to be warped.
Flesh does not exist, skeletons
Roam this isolated world.
I think I’m going crazy.

Is there such thing as
More insane?