Unoriginal Madness

You don't know Crazy

They walk and complain

all my life and all my days

about going crazy

and feeling insane.

They joke; they giggle

and just a little

something inside me is snapping

while they're busy laughing.

I can't yet explain

but a feeling so plain

so vile

so wrong

But so pleasing

and long

surges through my veins

And suddenly their daggered words

I must silence and burn

or else go mad and die

from the nonsense I've heard

And whether it be with their blood

and a smile on my face

with laughter dancing on my lips

as I delight in my hate

and my knife violently slashing

draining away my fears

and the red silently pooling

as death draws near

while I can't stop grinning

at the masterpiece I've made

even in their death

I will bask in the pain

But instead I just sneer

and growl at their words

as if it is something

I never have heard

Walking away simply knowing

whatever they say

they don't know crazy

and they'll never know insane.