Crackpot

I conjure me some company on the paper.

But they don’t share my loneliness. 

I write me up some imaginary friends.

But they don’t speak by themselves. 

I kinda wish I had those soft toys girls always have. 

Something to hug when the memories come & the tears starts.

But I know boys don’t do that.

Need an escape but I don’t know how.

I look for advice,

My imaginary friends are there;

But they know what I know.

Which isn’t saying much.

So, I try the bars but I can’t break free. 

There’s no door,

Can’t find a way out.

Trapped & frustrated,

I’m lost & helpless. 

& now the ghosts are coming out!

I slash at them. 

They disappear. 

But, my body’s covered in cuts. 

The blood seeps out,

It’s a relief, I’ve never felt before. 

The burden’s gone. 

I’m lighter than air. 

Now I can just slip past the bars.

I’m loosing blood

& I realise I’m loosing our memories too. 

No, I don’t want that. 

No! No! NO!!!

I freak out. 

Desperately trying to hold on to us.

I scream for help,

My imaginary friends are there.

But they can’t speak by themselves. 

Lying in my own blood.

Too weak to speak,

Too weak to breath now. 

I look at them,

All smiling smugly at my helplessness. 

And as I pass out,

Just like the real ones

They fade away, too.

***

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