POETRY: 'Schizo' by Robert Drake and George Abraham

Schizo
by Robert Drake and George Abraham


G:
I am a thief
Robbing people of
That which they need the most;
Stealing the unique consistency of
Self.

R:
My mother wont even talk to me
anymore...
I remember well, that day,
that fateful day that changed
my reality forever…
waiting in the guidance counselors
office with my mom to be seen about my
incident in class.
i felt uneasy, because I knew
what they were speaking so urgently
about...
Stress induced testing, the
Infamous AP exam, during this exam,
I began to perceive voices,
devilish, bone-chilling voices that plagued
my very thoughts.
They were whispering, provoking me, mocking me,
buzzing around my head like gnats
yellow-fog creeping upon the window-sill
tapping, my attention follows,
my emotions swell, the sensation
became to unbearable

G:
I am a voice;
A nonexistent manifestation
Of everything unwanted
Telling you you’re worthless!
Telling you you cannot be!
Telling you you’re nothing but an insane freak plagued by…

R:
so I SCREAM
and try to escape, but the voices
persist, whispering… screaming…

G:
They’re out to kill you.
All of them.
This testing area is merely a clever mechanism
Designed to suffocate you with toxic gasses.
You must escape from them!
Kill them!!!
Or yourself!
Whichever is more convenient
Because you’re dead anyways.

R:
We're finally summoned to the office,
and i notice a peculiar man with the nametag
M.D standing adjacent to the Counselor.

G:
these people, the counselor,
Mr. M.D,
Even your own mother
Want to murder you!
You’re too much of a liability!
She can bear it much longer!
You’re going to die!
You’re mother hates you!
You’re a cause to her humiliation!

R:
The M.D speaks to my mother privately
while i sit, silently tormented, silently
corrupted.
I felt my sanity slowly fade away
as i overhear one word
Schizophrenia.

G:
"YOU NEED TO DEFEND YOURSELF
AND TO DEFENT YOURSELF, YOU
MUST KILL YOURSELF
BEFORE THEY DO."

R:

As my eyes begin to fill with tears of pain and despair,
I spot a pair of scissors.
At the same time, the M.D and my mother
were finishing their conversation.
I grasp the scissors in my hand, trembling,
shaking violently, the voices in my head
shout:

G:
"DO IT!
ESCAPE FROM THEM!.ITS THE ONLY WAY!"

R:
Just then my mother walks through the door
with the M.D
and drops to her knees
as she suffers the worst pain
a mother can ever experience.

G:
I go by many names
Of those plagued and unplagued.
Contorter
Deceiver
Distorter.
a lobotomy;
A jagged silver metal
Jutting through the weak veins
Of the head;
Shattering that ¾ inch thick calcification
Protecting the self;
Then, finally, I penetrate
And remove the self from its body…
But only I and those plagued
By my kaleidoscopic lenses that enthrall thine ears
Know me and how I work, for I am a
Demon.
Sheltered in the pits of hell
Waiting for a poor innocent soul to lash out upon
With claws
To breach through branches of transmission.
And my fiery tale
Is kept aflame
By the souls of those consumed
By me.
Those on earth know me,
And my many forms,
As schizo.

Copyright 2011 | Robert Drake and George Abraham