A quite Death (Poem)

' what a crime,i cannot write,i have felt no sensation,my truth cannot bend. What are absent of heart and matters,an incomplete reflection,and still i beg time,barefeet and with no child... To find me a quiet place to exist. The walls can drive one close to madness as do your empathy..at times. I do understand though,that i cant keep you,close to misery and my tainted madness. Do you like the irony,Do you wish me sober and guilty of my own failures. I do fail you daily,and you do hate me for my moments of anxiety. I have often talked to you about isolation,and you smiled and say not even your thoughts will leave you be. And i mumble them,try to push them out of my mouth,i would starve them as i do myself,and envy its white bones. I dont wish for you any of this,uncertain delusions,and manic manifests into panic histeria, its sweet,its a reminder of death,and the hand of death points,and i carve a knife in myself,bleeding from outrage and deep cut dissapointment.This is a quiet death,were sparrows nest in my head. I may not like this - but this will eventually be,my final joy,dancing, smiling and mocking the world. I am not mad and i say these are mad times!'