Schizophrenic boyhood,

Dark, paranoid dreams.

Wonky patchwork stares,

Made from splitting seams.

Off-colour, blemished photographs,

An unheard, whispered regret.

Too many bleak fears screaming

For attention in your head.

Lonely nights surpass you,

Eyes glaze over in the light.

Hide away from Happiness,

And she won’t catch you tonight.

You’re older than you feel,

And younger than you look.

Wiser than you’re perceived,

A locked and bolted book.

Through your curtained glare,

I thought you loved, possibly.

But how there could there be room,

In that disaster of a mind, for me?