Schizophrenic.

Is it over?

(It feels over)

The sad thing

Isn’t that I’m

Always sad,

But that I

Can’t decide,

Can’t make up

My mind

Whether or

Not it’s love

Or hate or

A cross

Between

The two.

(They always

Go hand in

Hand)

It seems

You never

Wanted

This, even

Though you

Said you’d

Waited for

It your

Whole life.

(My life’s

A hole)

With or

Without

You; is

There

Something,

Anything

Left to do?

(I guess I’ve

Seen it all)

Everything

But who

You really

Are; who

You want

To be;

Why me?

(WHY ME?!!)

Pain, though

I’ve felt it

For eternities

Never gets

Better. Blood

Never stops

Flowing,

Always

Keeps going.

(Do I not

Deserve an

Ounce of truth?)

What have I

Done; what

Have I said;

Why; why.

I understand

How; not why.

(Why?)

None of this

Is a bit of

Surprise:

I’ve dealt

With your

Kind at

Least forty-

Four times

Before.

(It never gets

Old, does it?)

I’m always

The same it

Seems, no

Malleable

Maniac here

At least.

Just letting you know:

It felt like

The end in

The beginning.

(But isn’t

That the

Way it

Always

Goes?)