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Schizophrenia
December 27, 2011
I catch a glimpse
A broken glance
And return it
With eyes wide shut
I hold my hand
Out with hope
Wishing with
No guarentees
I leave my heart out to shrivel
Dry up in the sun
But it rains
So still it remains
Pinned so gently to my sleeve
I sat there waiting
Praying
Saying things that probably
Meant nothing
Only to my babbling mind
To quiet the whispers
Left by your absence
I cry
To quiet my mind
© Kelly D., Chester, NY
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