What A Waste

Mom what did I tell you about the monster in my room?
It hung out by the mirror and looked me dead in the eyes every time I passed by.

It laughed at the way I dressed and the fat on my stomach,
It tells me daily I'm better off waiting to catch my ride to hell on the train tracks across the street.

Mom why did you try and convince me that it didn't exist?
Because surely, surely nothing else could even be as real as this.

Mom, I've seen a lot and heard a lot.
Physically impossible orations and apparitions that should have never been there.

I get the clozapine is to make me less crazy, mom, I'm sorry.
But I think you don't understand.

The reality of it all is, I could take every last pill in that bottle.
I could get a refill or three.

Maybe I should stop speaking in metaphor because it was like the disorganized speech that was practically in tongues,
But mom every time I look in the mirror, I see the most horrific monster...

And no amount of sanity will make me go away.