Poetry By An Amateur

This hell

My shadow speaks to me.
Hours tick past.
How long has it been since I drank?
It feels like I swallowed glass.
This hell will never end.
This hell will never pass.

The bugs crawl up my skin.
You should feel their legs as they come down again.
I can hear them buzz
Behind my eyes.
In my ears.
In my head.
This hell will never pass.
This hell will never end.

The Monsters that speak to me are not underneath my bed.
They are aliens from the sky.
That tell of how you wish me dead.
They talk of your plans to poison me
The poison disguised as a med.
You say that it will pass.
But this hell will never end.

Demons danced for me.
Their fingers brushed my skin.
Their voices called to me.
They invited me in.
They promised me a place with no bugs on my skin.
They promised me a world that I was normal in.
They promised the voices would stop.
But they never did.
This hell will never pass.
This hell will never end.

A/n
This is written based on the things my uncle told me he experienced with his schizophrenia.

Please feel free to tell me ways i can improve. Have a lovely day. ❤