Psychotic Illness with additional Self Harm

My God please help me, please, please dear Lord,
I feel so bad; I’ve got to cut myself with a Wilkinson Sword.

To see my blood flow creates such a release,
All the bad feelings and hurt seems to cease.

Sitting in the centre of my circle of blades,
Reality, reason and judgement all fades.

Will my razors slice leave a scar that others can see?
Not like the real ones, deep down inside of me.

These are not my thoughts but those of a friend,
When unwell, like me, she goes right round the bend.

You can’t really understand how it feels if you’ve not been insane,
Think yourself lucky you don’t know such terrible pain.

Toys in the attic - over the rainbow,
Sectioned, locked ward, bars in the window.

What causes this? what’s wrong with my brain?
Could it happen to you? would you go insane?

Psychotic is the state of being mad,
It doesn’t mean I’m stupid, unintelligent or bad.

One wave short of a shipwreck, knitting with only one needle,
Mental illness is no joke - no Jeremy Beadle.

Alistair MacDonald