by Jackie Snax
Read Me Aloud
|Take out my eyes and crack them open not like eggs like glass
I think my psychosis would have to shatter out, too
there must be some point where it becomes solid and real
otherwise I’m just faking.
I’m done being the big scab, the cut up thing, the one who shouldn’t get shoelaces
the child rocking in the corner as they ponder ‘autistic or attention seeking’
and the word ‘crazy’ is yelled as an accusation during the soft episodes and a warning for those I could infect during the hard ones, I am something that can hurt you and I’m not saying you should forget it because I shouldn’t either
if you put me into google you get autofills that suggest I should’ve been mercy killed when it became apparent I was doomed to end up on the subway, soiled and screaming
eating the already-bit subway sandwiches good-kind tourists give me instead of money to protect me from my own need for drugs
you can never be yourself on, they say
you can never be your truest self again, once medicated.
did you know - there’s a lot of flirting in mental hospitals?
that shit always seemed so fucked up to me
but then again when you think about cancer patients finding each other it’s almost like it makes sense - at least you’ll die around the same time
the average lifespan of my species is 25 years shorter than yours
and when seeing feels like those glass shards converging at least you’ll understand!
we can end up on the subway together, screaming.
we’re not doing any kind of silver linings playbook shit but I have crashed through windows, before.
I can never remember why I wanted the shards, but I did.
But you and me,
We can build ourselves up card by card because no one else will unless they can somehow get paid more for a patient that doesn’t need them
That’s something no one talks about.
craziness is survived by the rich and owned by the poor
we have better glass to crash through, up here.
I will never end up on the subway, screaming
that’s just for you, you say.
And that’s the end.
Together, we collapse.