The Insane

I see people bound by their existence,

They are restrained by their insistence,

Everything they do is for subsistence,

And with their heart give no assistance.

They call the crazy ones mad,

Like a burden that they have had,

They say feeling pain is "bad,"

But to not be crazy is sad.

I am one who loves the pain,

To feel and watch my own blood drain,

It is the hurt that breaks my chain,

I want to stand alone in vein.

I am the insane.