Tag Archives: insanity

Graceful Insanity

It’s a long arduous process to be driven gracefully insane – and yet he managed effortlessly, as if he’d done it a thousand lifetimes before. And I’m not speaking of the anonymous one – I’m referring to you.

©2012 jill



She was a beautiful wreck
That he refused to let go of
Her insanity her sweetness
Her idiocy her brilliance

Inconclusive in the running
Head to head
Neck and neck

Never knowing
One moment to the next
Who she would be
When that trigger was flipped

Vile and venomous
Hateful and loathing
Sweet and caring
Gentle and loving

She’d become an
To others
To her self

Her contradictory character
Leaving her exhausted

The wreckage of her fury
Weakening and breaking her


Until all that remained
Was an empty shell
Not remotely familiar
Of her former self

She gasped desperately
Needing the breath of life
But the winds of change
Refused to blow her way

© 2011 Jill Terry


She stood in the kitchen
Near the recently cleaned table
Looking down
At the pretty blue plate

Burnt monkey bread
Three individual pieces
Neatly arranged
One for each

The effort at least
She thought to make

But ruined it
Thinking to herself
What was the point

When he walked past
Nonchalantly said
Don’t lament about it

She looked up from the plate
Then up further still
Into beautiful blue eyes
Filled with concern

Don’t what
She heard herself ask
Don’t lament about it
She asked him what’s that

You don’t have to be
Sad about it
Its only just bread

She felt something inside
Resembling a smile
Never a doubt
This was her child

She walked to her desk
Having just woken up
Looked at the wall
Almost two o’clock

He followed her in
Asked how she was feeling
How’s the new medicine
You still seem a little tired

She searched herself
Trying to find an answer
She found nothing instead
Only just numb

She looked up and smiled
Then answered
I’m fine

©2011 Jill Terry


It’s the games created
The ones she plays
Her self the sole competitor

Of sheer necessity
For the sake of her sanity
A form of self preservation

Some would think crazy
Others might pity
A few might find pure genius

Tweaking thought process
To fool the body
Into believing an absolute falsity

Electroshock therapy
Through means of visual stimulation
Reminders of truth when all else fails

Wounds inflicted for vanquishment sake
Diminisher of torturous emotion
So conquers the physical pain

Regardless of her reasons
Why games balance reality
It matters not what others think

Just some things she does
Reminders of lost reasons
To sustain her very existence

Not because she wants to
But simply because she has to
It is what it is

It’s the method to her madness

©2011 Jill Terry

Internal hard drive

Something about that
Penetrating gaze
Of his

As if
He’s looking
Right through

Studying the
Reading the

While searching
The cause

Snickering at
The display
Emotions painted
On face

What lingers

Certain of
Too much so
Some times

Just smile
And nod
Let it go

He strolls
In and out
Watching the

Flowing like
A river to
The sea

The Zen in
My path
In a place
Gone mad

That lights
Those dark

© jillterry

Insanity’s Final Adieu

His was a miserable life; wandering the globe pretending to be lost, feigning insanity due to all sorts of abuse; self-inflicted, youthful demons victim, to any and all who showed the slightest inclination of interest. In truth, he knew exactly where he was going, what the cost would be to get there; needing only to cross paths with enough unsuspecting souls to help him reach his final goal.

His mantra; a worn out stanza touting suicidal tendencies, despair and angst; deviously reaching out, spewing his seed deep into the core of one vulnerable victim after another. Setting his life on cruise control; riding the tides at the expense of others; completely void of moral conscience. Reveling in his cunning; laughing yass…Yass…YASS!!!

Glorifying and romanticizing his untimely demise; misunderstood soul, plagued to the point of suicide; lamented by the masses, singing his praises; his spirit rising, watching from above. Egomaniac, if ever there was. Imagining himself, even in death; the center of attention, in the form of ash.

What he didn’t equate in the miles obsessively tracked, was the road itself reaching up; in the cloak of darkness, snatching his pathetic ass. There would be no bright light, no tunnel of peace; only a blazing ball of fire, an eternity of scorching heat.

The spell broken at the moment of death; his pact with the devil signed and sealed; damaged souls once broken, now healed. A fitting adieu; to one who once declared that Karma is but a word…



She waits
For love lost

Just as we
All did

The same
The same
Differing his pain
His troubled past

To fit each
And circumstance

On what he
Or knew he could
Take from them

I offered up the
Group of support
Gathered in the
Patiently waiting
For her to
Walk off the

She isn’t yet
Still believing
He is
Who he


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