Schizophrenics Poem by Mark Heathcote

When the wiring
of the brain,
unravels in this way like a ball of yarn.
There can be no lonelier
place on earth
than your own, malicious mind.
Teasing out its own
self-worthlessness in pain
waging-war against its self-esteem
its own heart and soul
brother, sister, mother, father.
And, one-time friend and lover
they're all of them, voices in your head
but you know you've lost the thread
Once you have wished them all dead.