Doctors and nurses digging through my head
Stitching through psyche like needle through thread
Picking through all the places in mind
Searching for something they will never find
Looking for feelings and workings and cures
They think that they can help me...
But they can't,I am sure.

They think ink blots and head shocks will break down my chains
But these only bring physical,additional pain
I can't understand what they hope to achieve
My confessions​ and stories that they won't believe
And if they won't listen then what shall I do?
The voices in my head provide no help to.

And most of the time,they place me in my cell
My own personal, padded and very small hell
Again,this is something they think they will help me
But I don't want to be here,I want to be free
Surely they know this, surely they care?
But it seems their concern is vanished in thin air
It seems that they want to wash their hands of me
For what value to anyone is insanity?

Story is told by Sshachi

Sshachi


Thanks

Sweetie


Nice story...

Sshachi


Thanks

Ghost girl 07


Awesome 👍👍👍

Sshachi


K

riyaz


Chat

Megha


Nice poem

Megha


Maybe

Cass


For what value to anyone is insanity? I think we all believe this line.

tayderbug


Come to chat

Sshachi


Thanx Karlee

karlee7


Awesome

Sshachi


Thanx Ami and Katie

Katie Bunny💋


Amazing story

Ami_


Cool

Sshachi


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