50 People - 31 Poem by Raj Dronamraju

31

They all wear hoods
They all drink root beer
And only you can see them

The shadow on your face
Brings attention to rather than obscures the fight you are engaged in

Delusions of intruders pulverize clean and rational thought
Now, you've fallen into the momentum and you roll towards increasing disturbance in your perceptions, your thought processes

Is this hereditary? The way the mind becomes your enemy
Scouring family history finding suicide, confinement in an institution
And though you function and are thankful for that, it is becoming increasingly harder

I hope you can shut out unwanted thoughtnoise
The mind making illusions, the mind conspiring against you
I hope there is help coming beyond the overly soothing words of those who don't really understand your illness

If you can bring old, used thoughts
She might get some use out of them