The Skeletons of Paranoia

That familiar mist slinks around.
Heart pounding. Thoughts burning.
Thud, thud, is all I can hear now.

The second hand drags on by;
Strung up, like a marionette doll
I jerk, this way and that, I cry.

Fingers tremble with each word,
As the cold sliver of steel feasts,
Screeching, my soul it clawed.

I know it's there, yet you insist
Smoothly wooing my beliefs
Towards, "It does not exist."


The voices fade away to deathly silence.