Mental Illness

A clutter of coalescing conspiracies rant on in my paranoid mind,
Defining my reality with one swift movement, a slight of hand,
I resurrect memories and overcasting shadows of spirits left behind,
A feral desire consumes my soul and leaves me bleak and bland,
I reach out, calling out a name that sounds like my own,
But all that follows is an all too reminiscence of nothing at all,
Devoid of colour I collapse into your embrace and I dethrone,
Casting shadows onto a cut out silhouette and preparing for the fall,
I see nothing, then everything, then nothing at all,
I blame my mind for it’s troubled illusions, an order too tall,
For I’m not to blame at all instead it is only a figment of my thought,
Procreating spectacles on mysterious enhanced psychological illusions,
I made it clear I wouldn’t fall for it’s tricks again but all I was taught,
At once was lost and all my great heartfelt instructions fell to delusions.
If only you were so simply healthy and happy but it would be too easy,
A life with too little drama, too few problems, it would be too hard,
To admit that that is me and has been me all along as if my own mind is saying ‘tease me’
A chard, ruined misshapen chaos laid out before me, dirty, ruined, marred.