My brother wanted me to write something “dark, brooding, and a little creepy,” so I dashed off this poem for him. I think he wanted to see if I could write anything legitimately unhappy. After reading this, he told me, “Um, this is a little bit darker than I meant.”

I disagree. This isn’t that bad at all. I’d read it to an eight-year-old. (Maybe)

Skhizien means “split” in Greek, and it’s the word from which we derive the prefix of “schizophrenia.” While I’m not trying to claim this poem accurately describes what schizophrenia is like (not even remotely), I do think it has a certain “split” element to it.

It’s a little darker than most of my work (said the girl who just posted a love poem to rainbow sprinkles), but I hope you like it anyway. Tomorrow night I’ll put something lighthearted up. 🙂

Maniacal laughter rings in my ears,

Echoing in the corridor.

I see my reflections in puddles of tears.

Madness is no foreigner.

Memories I must repress,

Scraping on my soul.

Yet I cannot find any success,

And am giving up control.

Darkness dwells in safety here;

Light dwindles into death.

Flickering candles disappear,

Put out by a breath.

I spiral into living dreams.

Nightmares rule the day.

Flooded with unholy schemes,

Hallucinations bar my way.

Slowly fall the many tears,

As a stalactite gently drips.

Maniacal laughter rings in my ears,

Echoing from my own lips.

Like it? Comment below!

Original poem by KiWi. Copyright 2017.

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