the sad lost boy is mad

i open my father's bedroom door and take the extension wire from the cabinet beneath the t.v. ...i tell him i need it...i will not use it again...i need to write something...i have a diary...then let us begin
there is no substitute for this in words and loveable elixirs of melodic sentences that will lead you and me astray and i find myself in school...the past has not been deleted...the loose bricks lie still where they lay but now they're a source of mirth, i look at them and laugh and play and all my friends are back...the classes are those same dungeons where i fell in love and the light is still as dim and pure as those few moments before sun rise. the trees are pictures...that's all i have, like snapshots in the family album. someone should've cried but i had found joy again...i was back where i belonged...and yet...i don't see familiar faces anymore...where did they go...? where are those faces hiding...? i was just sporting and laughing with them...they have left me here in this mad crowd...a man, i pick out of the crowd...i know this man...shiny knows this man because i told her...but he has a new face...he wants to hug me and touch me and love me but there is no love in his eyes...i am afraid...i know what he wants...snapshots in my mind's album...i have remade my world with snapshots...i am back where i belong...the trees, lit like nothing... absolutely nothing...goddamned absence of everything and yet i am back...but this man...i know what he wants...nobody will save me...nobody would believe me and i can't be saved...and i see their eyes and the happiness and the lust and the grief overshadowed by their ultimate need...i am shivering...my mind is jelly...i try to pry loose...i am followed...he will not let me go...i am trying my best...i swear i am...and then one person intervenes...i have seen him before too. i have loved him because i have believed that he could have and will save me...i have seen this man a thousand times...this short man with features so kind and a voice that will put me to sleep forever...this is the man in whose search i went to the psychiatrist...this small man...he intervenes...he takes the other man by the arm, pulls him aside...he will save me...he takes the other man aside...and he tells him how he has made this world for me...how he planted all these photographs of everything that is me and pasted them back as well as he could and has left them there for me to live in forever...he takes that man by the arm...that man ruined one life, he will not ruin another...hannibal lecter savagely bites him on the face and grunts like a mad man...i can hear the screams...louder and louder...they're not loud enough...they will get louder...all and everything...snapshots, misery, love, everything i am, is now in that scream...over powering. all consuming...i see myself and my life come to order in that person's chaotic shrieking...i have a fleeting vision of order in my room, in real life...the study table is in order...everything is perfect...there is nothing...but there is something...the shoes...the shoes are on the rug that i pray on...the rug that i still pray on...the screams are getting louder...they burn my insides, outsides, everywhere...explode this goddamn misery...kill that son of a bitch....i want hannibal to kill him...i want to sleep in his blood...breathe in it. the screams turn into a crescendo...i can hear pink floyd...i can hear..."the wall" playing somewhere, this is the background music of my misery...the original sound track of my shame...as loud as the screaming...the agony of that beast is what i breathe. i open my eyes...the screaming and the music still burning in my ears...i wake up and i see that i am still here...still in my room...those cigarettes lying by the box that laughs at me and asks me to find three numbers that fit the formula...the snapshots have faded...i am awake...i light up...i don't feel sick...i feel distant...hannibal will not save me...not in this life...it's too late for me in this life...this is why i went to the psychiatrist...but i could not tell him...and i can hear shiny tell me that i need help...is that all she would say to me?
i am dead. a wraith. i remember too much...and she feels nothing even though i see her to be like me...she is not...because i am insane and she is just an insane delusion. snapshots in the family album. so what else did you leave for me?
what else did you leave behind for me?
i can't cry...those screams should've followed me home...i want to sleep in his blood...and you will never know. you have a nicer, prettier life to live in and there is no love in shiny eyes.