Second Person Narrative (First Person Schizophrenia)

if I had found 
a way
to believe in (G)god
I’d thank him/her/it/them/us
that I never
severed the fraying tether
to this
waking unreality;

because
in the morning
the fear dissipates
into 8AM’s 
mad dashes,
but
the nighttime’s forty roman
lashes
leave a permanent scar.

and I can’t forget the icy
fingertips around my neck,
or the way every past-tense
presupposition bleeds into the next,
until the uncanny shadows
take corporeal form
and threaten to intersect
with reality’s 3AM
mental breakdown — the way a
phantasm
brings you to your fucking knees.

and I haven’t cried in such a long time,
but I can see oblivion in
my
peripheral 
hysteria,

and you never really learn
to live with
the convex dystopia,
implanted between
synaptic empires;

even when the gateways
to sanity
remain

so heavily
guarded.

Willie Watt
10.28.16

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