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Score | 42
In Mental Health • 1 min read •
My Mind locked me out
<p style="text-align: left;">I did not go mad all at once.</p><p>I unraveled slowly, like a sweater caught on a nail.</p><p>One thread, then another, then I was standing cold in a pile of my own string.</p><p><br/></p><p>There is a funeral happening inside my head every day.</p><p>No one brings flowers. No one wears black.</p><p>I am the corpse, the priest, and the only mourner clapping in the back row.</p><p><br/></p><p>I keep my sanity in a jar by the bed.</p><p>Some nights it glows.</p><p>Some nights it stares back and says nothing.</p><p><br/></p><p>I talk to myself the way you talk to a house you used to love after you have moved out.</p><p>I knock, I wait, I know no one lives there anymore, but I knock again.</p><p><br/></p><p>Insanity is not that I hear voices.</p><p>It is that the loudest voice is mine, and I no longer trust it.</p><p>It tells me to run and to stay.</p><p>To speak and to choke.</p><p>To jump and to kneel.</p><p><br/></p><p>I smile so well now, you would think I was born doing it.</p><p>I have learned to carry my madness like perfume — a little behind the ears, invisible, but everyone smells something is wrong when I get too close.</p><p><br/></p><p>If you ever find my mind,</p><p>please do not return it.</p><p>Bury it somewhere soft, where it never has to pretend again.</p>

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