Tag: mental health

Beyond the Mirror

Beyond the Mirror

mimic, himself in the mirror
perfect reflection of self-healed
beyond gaze, a man crumbles
disease rotting from within 
worn strands of hands
grasp for help, but only shake
with a smile, but it is fake
the man is riddle with decay
hiding his decline only to protect,
the target, is not to be known.

11/17/21 – Andy McRae

Insanity Aches

Tearing in pain
Worlds of ungodly domain
‘Is this fair’
I echo as I pull on my hair.

I feel it crashing over me
In waves it breaks
One, two, three
These momentary insanity aches.

It’s coming from my chest
I cannot stop it from fleeing
Emotions get the best
Of this man, not even a being.

Pain is all I hear.

Do you expect more from me
A greatness that I should achieve
Should I have aspirations in front of me
I feel as if I should grieve.

This utterly dead ringing
I hear in my head bringing
A maddened state of being.

6/1/20 - Written by Andy McRae

Terrible

I am not alright
The pain keeps me up at night
Boiling in me, a dread
Of when will I be dead
Who am I to say
That I will be alright this day
Or the next
Stuck in this complex
I am in a muck
Fuck
Perplexed by the thoughts in my head
Unable to lay in my bed
Each night I fret
Of the return of the regret
That is rotting my mind
All that I see is in the hind’
It is stumbling in front
Of the way I confront
Life
And living with this strife
I find unbearable
What I decide is terrible.
---5/24/20---

Makeshift

A flick of fire in the eyes
Of a figure broken in to two sides.
 
Pieces scattered all around,
From when he shattered on the ground.
 
Punctured by shards of his own,
The wicked side stabs the 'lone.
 
From these pieces I shall make
A man greater than his fate.
Forge them in his own fire,
Breathes of the dragon's tongue,
Burning the soul of which, he is from.
 
Once divided, before then whole,
This makeshift man shall walk again.

This is a old poem of mine, early college years if I had to guess.

Screaming Paradigm

They are in my head
Screaming at me that I should be dead.
Tearing me, ripping me apart
These monsters who wanted me from the start.
 
The echoes ringing, so far unreturned
Leave me deaf, and rather concerned.
Dancing flames lick before my eyes
But grabbing them would be unwise.
 
Screaming, Shouting, Roaring in my brain
The sounds of battle that are under the strain
Of this madness around us all the time
The sickness that dwells deep within the paradigm.
 
--Andy McRae--           --5/1/20--