#138 (2022)

Paranoia is a hell of a thing… | Photo by Rafael Rendon

Do you see that man over there? The one with the long black hair? Yes him, do you see him? The one who’s flicking his wrist on a whim?

Do you see that woman over there? The one with the short blonde hair? Yes her, do you see her? The one who’s playing on your fear?

What do you mean you don’t see them? Can’t you see they’re pouring gasoline All over my house, and they’re ready To light it up with a match and burn it down?

Can you really not see them? You mean you don’t see how they’re Disemboweling my pets with same Knives I cut my wrists with in the kitchen?

You mean you also can’t see How they’re naked and plucking my eyes out Like hungry vultures, as they have sex On top of my dying body, and using my blood As if it was a sexual lubricant?

How? Why can’t you see them? Why can’t you see the man with long black hair? Why can’t you see the woman with short blonde hair? Am I the only one who can see them?

“Yes, you’re the only one who can see them. It’s what we doctors call hallucinations. You burnt your own house down.

You disemboweled your pets. You plucked the eyes out of your girlfriend, And later used her blood as a sexual lubricant, As you desecrated her corpse. It was all you, John.

Paranoia is truly an agent That makes you go crazy.”

05–18–2022 22:18 Kregian Vareare Miral

Hey guys! How are y’all doing?

I wrote this poem for really no reason. Just wanted to see what shocking thing I can write as the daily poem challenge I did back in 2022 got me in a drought of ideas and inspiration. Writing 1 poem every day isn’t as easy as it sounds, and as maybe y’all can tell, this particular piece doesn’t make a lot of sense, nor does it have a clear message or theme to it. It’s literally a word vomit.

Thank you for reading and I’ll see you in the next poem!