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Schizophrenic Portrait

Written: May 09, 2024

                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A diaphanous shroud on my cranium.
It's worn down to the cram
It's a reprieve from my madness.
& now I clench my jaw.
My head aches from lunacy.
I crave calm to drown out voices
destroying everything I hold dear
I will devote a bullhorn
to let my tone be heard
& let it reverberate
covert from the world's gaze,
A battle rages deep inside
I've led my troops to war
alas, battling for a perilous blitz, 
They swiftly grasped their sword
ready to slice me up,
However, a white flag soared high.
 
A gawky, curly-topped redhead,
wearing a drab cloak
feeling low & depressed. 
with wretched winters within
white air mist adorned an asylum aura,
bubbling, blistering bolts
through her spurred veins,
schizophrenia is veiled
In her woolen socks, scaring
drifting through a coma cloud
Insulin and lobotomy with an icepick
an award for literary eminence 
sprung to mind.

You touched me from 
an abyssal sun
I am a hybrid of Adonis, 
Apollo and Dionysus
I love poetic & evocative music
& I embody a vast 
spherical harmony, 
I am both humane & ethereal
with choreographed equilibrium
that swings as a pendulum 
in a tantric zen vertex.
Here I stand, alone
with a variety of personas,
& amorphous whispers 
that has made me wonder
rhetorical schizophrenia, 
akin to that of a shaman
I've come up with a lot
fictitious & 
iconic pseudonyms, 
and I can be seen 
as a species, ape, or human, 
experiencing despondency 
or manic swings. 
It's a schizophrenia maze
a tedious anodyne haze
that creates a soporific daze.

In my zeal, Irises converse,
they whisper sweet tunes. 
whilst bees buzz,
around them, creating 
a mystical dance of roots
these roots are rhizomatous
and have been released
from the obnoxious grip 
of hidden chains
a waltz is performed
of iron accompanied 
by an opus flail whiplash 
that rips my flesh
and tears on my inner face
I frolic in the gloom. 
amongst orchids
wasps buzz softly 
while my bosom warms up,
and pollen becomes plentiful.
I find solace in his secure 
haven rather than 
an infused hell-scape,
ten-foot mirror-prism walls 
near the prison
providing a peculiar panopticon
fluorescent mall lights 
shine bright as gray guardians 
comply with me.
My brain whispers
holding shape-shifting cosmic spirits
my brain is punctured
a cloud of reality-scented air fell
inflated by fits of hysteria spell
of erratic salience quill
whilst floodgates of dopamine swell
my cranial seams are bursting
slipping into hopscotch psychosis as well
as if a pin plummets. 

Copyright © Sotto Poet

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