Painful Art of a Schizophrenic’s Dream
In the restricted freedom of fine art
of the gallery of the ill and struggled,
dopamine weeps out of the oil paintings
and eludes our viewer who attempts to escape.
Trapped in his consciousness,
he becomes a victim to the delusions
he witnesses on abstractions before him.
Focusing on the natural creativity
inexplicably forced upon him,
voices crawl out of the paintings –
and lacerate his exclusive surreality.
In vain attempts to fight back,
his eyes project the visions of death
as the gallery merges into personal illusion.
In his confined abode, reality becomes
a state of decaying trance –
he remains an enigma to the outside world.
Episodic memories fall out of his eyes
and crack before him in fragments,
onto the very floors
of the place he calls home.
Hallucinations burst their way through canvases
in taunting blisters before him
as he attempts to burst them with the decrepit bristles
of his mental paintbrush.
He used to have dreams that countered his melancholy,
of someone who would one day slay his deceptions
who would hold him tight and love him too
and correct his faltered perceptions.
Instead he remains in fear,
and as the walls close in and laugh at him,
he tears open his skin to rid of the psychotic infection.
The art gallery of a waking nightmare
begins to melt all around him,
as all the paints mix into one colour
and surround every part of his being.
His body is smeared with the monochromatic white
as he loses his will to fight on.
Consumed by his own trepidation,
he is forced into unfortunate relief –
he asphyxiates in the depths
of his unique imagination.
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