Overthrown
By Pedro Guerra

Tired of the endless maze of this mind.

Tired of having to cite proof for every thought.

Tired of adhering to the whims of brain chemistry.

Tired of having my own voice used against me. fooling me into thinking I require this much to decide, to debate the most arbitrary things.

Even now, when describing what it is, I want to be rid of the right words elude me.

It sickens me this thing, fills me with anger, makes me what to kill to rip flesh from bone to maw the guilt one, I salivate at the thought of slowly disemballing him, deranged with pain. The mental sight fills me up with good holy light.

The best comfort is knowing that when I go to hell, what little part this thing occupies will join me. As I burn and suffer, I will be the one man in hell smiling, knowing that it too is here.

This twisted tongue, stumped mind, and slow fingers stall me from expression.

Failing to put into words what I wish to end matters little. Attempting to restrict an irrational otherworldly phenomenon into language is a task all who suffer it fail to properly express.

I’m done. I’m done with all of it.

The sickening thought structures. The endless double takes. The infinite travels into memory to search for what I already have. The proofreading of every thought as I think it is one contradiction of many.
I’m done getting mentally rigid. I can not allow these disorders to continue dominating my mind.

Overthrow the villainous methods of disease. This is yours no longer.