If I could stay insane,
I could continue to hear
your sweet voice and
experience visions of you.

The medicine is a pain.
It takes away your voice
and your beautiful face.
I want to spit it out.

In reality you are gone
and I don’t know where
you live or know how to
contact you by phone or web.

When I am off my meds
you are always with me.
It’s a good thing for me,
but others do not agree.

I always end up kissing
the walls, fondling the air,
and calling your name.
In madness you are real to me.

You talk to me, you dance
with me, we make sweet love.
Everything happens like it was
supposed to happen.