Schizophrenia.com

Red Doors and Hurricanes

July 1st 2021

I used to dream in surreal snowflake grandeur
Dancing through the blizzards
I used to raise my hands to the sun and spin infinite scribbles
Dreaming like the witches and Wizards
until the red doors shut me out, shut behind me
I forgot how to stand still, so I would just climb
as if that’s a crime
in REM deep dream sleeping spiraling away
in REM deep dream I could escape
or to the moon!
and they had to continue to remind me, to try to blind me
That all my dreams had deferred and dried, to bind me
that the inner child in me had died so quietly
and so that is how the evil science had won
and so that is how they stole my piece of mind
and that’s how the seizures have begun!

so rightly, so slightly…shocked into angelic frequencies
when the fever broke, and the stormclouds dissolved
into an amnesiatic fractured personality
I saw an endless red road before me
and Imagined I had my ageless ancestors beside
as I started to talk again
to walk again to move forward toward an unknown horizon
because all the red doors would be no more
because all the roofs were now on the floor…
because people were not the same as before…
spinning spinning spinning
winning winning winning
because my beautiful world was no more!

1 Like

yeah. the cruelty, the spent. it’s all reaching for something.

I like your poem. Maybe I’ll re-read it later.