Lucinda Lawliet Poetry

Intentions ran hay-wire when you aren't aligned
Something heavy stabs me in the back when I know I can't survive
The world is small, but bedroom walls expand
My mind is an overflowing fountain with not a patch of rational land
Organisms chatter and ramble against my skull
Making dents in the walls, isn't my brain enough too full?
A scar I forgot to count creeps in front of my eyes
"What're you doing being an idiot? It's that knife you've got to find!"
Blindly dashing, my vibrating vocal chords too loud for my lungs
Insane screeches echo into the empty corridor and shiver my gums
Masochists repeat my first name, reminding me of the fact I can't see
Their mocking voices make me protest louder, they won't set me free
Clawed masses grab my arms to manipulate the actions of my hands
"Please stop this, this is dangerous, you don't understand!"
Finally I can see, I can bleakly hear
Only everything is foggy with tears
Defiant to the end, I refuse along with my hypocrite army
"Back off, I'm allowed to scar me!"
The bellowing is booming enough so the line is equal to silence's intensity
Half-dead logical beings attempt and fail to get a hold of me

By the end of the battle with myself and I
Nobody really won, due to the reward of my own caretaker's mangled eyes
I'm worried, I love you, don't scare me like that
The guilt it gives feels like the recoil of a slap
That night I didn't know what time was or where it went
All my brain could settle on is how it made my mother bent
Out of every worst night a parent could have, the very worst insult
Is to have the sweet apple of their eye suffer from the sourness of bipolar impulse

Poet: Lucinda Lawliet