Why does it refuse to die
why won't It let me be
don't get me wrong
there are no voices
In my head
just pictures with the
sound turned up.
These Images seem to
define who I am
how I think
how I feel.
I ask myself
do I need these Images
would I feel lost without
them playing In my head.
These pictures are like my
favourite sweater
the one I can't throw away
frayed and torn
at the seams
but yet the one I cling to.
Sometimes It gets to much
just want to take a hammer
make it stop
the anger bubbling Inside
of me.
I won't do It
there is so much I want
to see
so much I want to touch
to feel, to taste, to hold.
So for now I will walk the halls
and think these thoughts
with Insomnia by my side
my ever faithful friend
and lover.