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
Tag: mental illness
Shadows and Sticks
Shadows and Sticks
caffeine hyperdrive
a manic stuck on auto drive
retrograde mental projections
back turned, I left in rejection
illusions weaved in my mind eye
forsaken by the very reality, I
a world of shadows and sticks
bending the truth, as the candle
burns down to the wick
I feel sick
10/18/21 – Andy McRae
Kaleidoscope
Kaleidoscope Prismatic at the wheel Drive me places Make me feel Prism shift Feel the drift From red to blue Coming down too Kaleidoscope Chromatic way I emote Long waves, short waves Makes me feel like a remote Palate of colors I am I shift with coming of wind Sail across the sky Prism rainbow am I Kaleidoscope Fully hued All the colors of the rainbow I suffer a few in magnitude. June 23, 2020 - Andy McRae
My sister told me I should write a poem about pretty colors. so I did.
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--
RadioactivePoetry 