By Dan Hoeweler

My mind
Is a blank canvas
On which I paint
Voices
And visions
Who speak of
My death
Daily
I converse
With them

They say:
“You are
Our prisoner
You are destined
To be
Our toy
We like to torture you
Everyday
In a way
That makes you
Mad
With anger
And hate
For the world”

I respond to the voices:
“Please
I do not hate
This world
I just wish that it would
Leave me be
And stop torturing me
With it’s villains
And voices
That it creates
Inside of my head
Which often say
To me
“I want you dead.”

“The voices
Which speak to you
Are not
Inside of your head
They are from villains
That serve the need
Of hiding secrets
And stealing thoughts
They perform necessary
Tasks
They are friends
And protectors
Of the world
Which you hate.”

“I am not a danger
To the world
I am a friend
To mankind
I only want everyone
To see
My world
It’s existence
Is a secret
To them
I have the key
To this fantasy world
Which they call madness”

“That world is a secret
It is the forbidden fruit
If you speak of it
We will destroy you
And lock you up
Inside of a cage
With a straight jacket on
If you scream of this world
It will fall on deaf ears
They will call you names
Like crazy and mad
They will lock you up
And never let you go
Till you are trained
To never speak
Your mind
Of this never-never land
That you see
I will teach the world
That this world
Is called
Insanity”

And so the voices win
Every year
Hiding this place
Which others cannot see
Through torture
Through madness
Only the chosen
Can see
The hell that lies
In this forbidden world
The greatest
Hidden
Secret of all