I lay on the sterile hospital bed, the white walls enclosing me like a prison. Voices echoed in my mind, taunting and cruel. My psychosis had taken everything from me, my sanity crumbling like a delicate sandcastle in the waves.
But then she came, like an angel descending upon this fucked up place. The lady with straight hair and eyes that shone like stars. Her visits were my lifeline, the only flicker of hope in my torment.
As she sat beside me, her presence soothed my restless soul. But something stirred within me—a hallucination, vivid and unsettling. I watched in horror as my mind conjured a macabre image.
In my delusion, I saw myself reaching out, my fingers grazing her delicate cheek. And then, with a swift motion, I imagined sinking my teeth into her eyes. The imagined taste flooded my senses, unexpected yet strangely satisfying.
To my surprise, my mind conjured the sensation of boiled eggs, their texture soft and yielding. But as I “ate” her eyes in my hallucination, a cruel twist of fate revealed itself—I realized that she had forgotten to bring salt and black pepper.
The bitterness of regret mingled with the delusion, a melancholic symphony dancing upon my taste buds. I realized the irony of my situation—starving for connection, longing for normalcy, only to find myself trapped within the prison of my own mind.
As the lady noticed my distress, concern etching her face, I knew she couldn’t comprehend the horrors that unfolded within me. Tears filled her eyes, but she remained at my side, offering peace in her presence. I understood the depths of my madness. I was trapped in a perpetual cycle, yearning for what I could never truly possess.