Am I the crazy one
For craving death and relief
Instead of life and pain

Or are they the crazy ones
For desperately wanting to live in pain

I guess I am crazy
Since I'm the one they locked up in the hospital
Deprived of fresh air
My liberty, locked up with me
In this tiny room I call my bedroom

They locked my autonomy away
They choose when I can go out
They tell me when to sleep and eat

Like a puppet and it's puppeteer
They try to "repair" me at every wrong step
Without ever questionning the puppeteer's moves
© Ytha