days of a schizophrenic

lies within the eyes of a reflection I did'nt recognize. I sympathize with the silence outside because inside is anything but. counting stars and scars as I stamp out another cigarette butt. the world and the people in it are'nt just so who should I trust? the lines between hallucinations and reality cross along crossroads I don't ever want to cross..... rests against my chest choking my neck. God can you help me? these thoughts ain't healthy so spare me the critique of the voices that speak only to me throughout the week. here's to trying again washing off the sin with a swallow of gin and picking up my pen. with it I can turn demons in friends, I stand in the mirror facing myself and seeing someone else. when will we be friends again?