The Wandering Mind

Psycho(logical) Poem

August 28, 2015

I’m going to hurt you.
I’m going to make you think you are worth nothing.
I’m going to make you think you don’t have any friends.
Make you believe the wildest fears and terrors will come to life for you.

I am You.
You are I.

I’ll make you doubt every decision you take, every relationship you have.
I will cause a chain-reaction of fear in you at the slimmest provocation,
make you experience dreams beyond even your imagination.

You will not like me.
I will not like you.
But I am You—you cannot escape me.
I will hunt you.
And you will trust me. You will make me make decisions for you. You will depend on me, confide in me, tell me your darkest secrets, your most terrible weakness.

And, Oh yes, I will use that against you.
You will wish that I didn’t exist, you will wish that I was not a force of seething, painful worry.
I will make you believe the world is on fire. That you are the cause of it. That you started all that is wrong with this place.
I can make you crawl inside yourself, hide from the world, scrape your fingernails against steel until they run red.

I will make you imagine things beyond what anyone is capable of understanding.
I will grant you ideas so great they will be studied in thousands of years.
I will make your dreams come true—
and your nightmares.

You can never be ready. You can never be free. I am with you always, a parasite and a gift, an interchangeable part of a complex wheel.
Without me, you wouldn’t spin.
With me, you’ll spin fast.


Damn. That tone is sinister. I love it.

And actually it goes a little further than that, especially if you think this is another person. It is not another person talking to you. Look at the title again, and think about it a bit, if you don't get what I'm saying.
If you do, I hope you understand that this is not written because I want to be rid of "The Wandering Mind." I don't think we can be. I wouldn't have written this if it didn't exist (in more ways than one).