A poem about Schizoid Personality Disorder, characterized by isolation and aloneness. Schizoids do not communicate. I am attempting to use my ability as a writer and poet to express a shadowy hint of what life is like for someone who is not part of the world he must live in, and who belongs nowhere and has no purpose to fulfill in life. Perhaps those who belong in the world can, through this poem, see a glimpse into the minds of those who do not. Whether I am successful or not may never be known.

Won't bury me in a churchyard
I am standing outside the gate
Night falling means it's getting late
The inky smoky blackness closes in
Choking and absorbing the light
Names deeply etched into the headstones
Not remembered in smothering night or sparkling day
And over there is a blue-tented, open grave
Which is reserved for someone else
Anyone else but me
I'm not good enough for them
Not good enough to be part of humanity
I won't darken the wide worn wooden doors
Or pass over the square, double-doored threshold
To walk upon the scuffed and polished floorboards
No leather Bible with gilded pages in hand
Not to be read but just carried as an ornament
Or as a membership badge for an exclusive country club
A house of God which has no place for me
No welcome for an outcast stranger
Just cold shoulders and being ignored
As God's chosen people live their lives and die
And are buried in the churchyard
While I live all alone
To an invisible God I find it easy to pray
Since the visible world has turned me away
Forgotten much like the dead who are buried
I think about the people who were once alive
In the mossy, weed-choked churchyard they lie
Happy are they for whom death has come
Who were released from life under the sun
As their souls are lifted in gladness
Cumbered about no more by chains or sadness
A gentle flood comes crashing down
In deep silent places all will drown
Spiritual passion is subdued
Hopes and dreams are consumed
No fear left for the death that will come
A gift for all who walk under the sun
So I leave the graveyard yawning behind me
Why am I afflicted with this curse?
Thinking instead of conforming is a bitter fate
No fate that befalls man could cause more pain
Than to be introspective
Instead of just being part of the herd
That dullness and lifelessness helps one to cope
As life takes its random twists and turns
And the sun burns as a chariot of light in the sky
Every thought like a strobe light on my eyelids
Analyzing and thinking about every second of life
Brooding over every mood, thought, and action
Every word that was spoken and those that were not
Turn it off switch it off stop it any and every way
Unable to simply forget and move on
Night air stirs like a somnambulist with a cool breeze
Oblivious to how still the heart and mind need to be
Trees shake bare branches in silent warning
Their covering of leaves has been given up
And their souls laid bare in the pale moonlight
By which I wander aimlessly down a dirt path
Inner thoughts roiling and bubbling up from deep waters
I need a good word to describe the totality of my life
Waste
Nothing to show for all the seconds minutes hours under the sun
As hands on the clock of life sweeps toward the final end
I walk under the stars above me
Moonbeams puncture my skin and I start bleeding
The past had been safely buried
But it resurrects itself as quickly as a thought
Scars this deep do not heal
Too bad the past can't stay in its grave where I buried it
I do not fear for the future
Because I do not have a future
Just resignation that my end is coming sooner or later
I am the pessimizer of my own belief system
Or the blind Paul Atreides who sees the future
So well he needs no mundane sight
I know everything that will happen before it happens
Using the incredible powers of my inner mind's eye
I am as cold as ice with no affect or expression
Youth once burned high and bright like a solar flare
All the fruitless searching and striving that aimed at nothing
The end was empty hands and a mound of freshly dug earth
Maturity is putting the pieces in order to get ready to die
For all life offers to anyone is death
Dissonance crashes into my mind
Once I thought I would be a king
Even the king of pain to be made whole
By the indelible lies I was told
All of my life I wanted a ring of power
Even the ring of fire could not satisfy
The crown of Gondor, even the rod of Arnor
Are not enough anymore
Throw them into the ocean to rust
They are worthless and false
Pretend tokens from my youth
Lies I once believed
Out of hope or probably just desperation
A yawning, sinking grave will welcome me
I am not a king
I understand everything there is to know under the sun
Sharp slicing memory punctures the equilibrium of thoughts
Laughter from dry throats and harsh hands pushing me
Casting me out and showing me I did not belong
No one wanted me and I had no place
Echoes of hopes and dreams slap off the ceiling
Where they once rested in vaunted exaltation
Now crashing and splintering like glass on the floor
Then silence so complete that I am swallowed up by space
An endless vacuum of total darkness extending forever
Among the swirls of ink I am swallowed up and lost
Yet this universe of darkness is inside my own soul
I should never have been alive
I have no reason to be alive now
Why did I ever think I would?
Who am I to think I was destined for anything?
What monster of pride inside my heart made the suggestion
That perhaps my life might have some meaning?
I dared to believe the lies I was told
I was drawn in like a moth to the flames
All the dreams and grasping for what I would achieve
I dared to grasp the possibilities of what could be
Only to be thrown to the ground in a pool of blood
What delusions did I have that my life mattered?
I will be another corpse taking up space in a graveyard
No brilliant mind and no talent or contribution
Waste
I'm just a failed and worthless person waiting around to die
Unwanted, weird, abnormal, different, strange, and an outcast
I know I will never be good enough
Where can I go to find answers awaiting for me?
The only way out is through
Confront the truth head on
Let the pain fill me up and hurt me
Until there's nothing left at all
What is left?
Nothing but a broken soul
Who yet has no hope
"But God commendeth his love toward us, in that,
While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."
"Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, 
and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, 
and shall not come into condemnation; 
but is passed from death unto life."
"...and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out."
The old graveyard looks better and better
A welcome place where rest can be found
Cold silent ground and life passes by
Then it's easy to look forward to death
Each breath and each passing day
Is one less day ticked off the calendar
Of my allotted span as I draw closer to the end
That blessed, holy end of an unnecessary life
I finally found the place I can belong
As I take my place among the dead
What am I waiting for?
No hesitation as I approach life's final destination
I'm excited that an end is approaching fast
And my stillborn life under the sun will forever be over
No one will remember me a week after I'm gone
These thoughts ascend to heaven like ladder-bound angels
Probably as close to a prayer as I'll ever come
Life is a black cloud hovering in the sky
Life is an anxious dread, a creepy haunting sensation
Life is a graveyard with a guaranteed destination
I've got a black cloud over my life
And it's going to rain tonight
The torrent of water will wash me away
That's how I'll end my earthly stay
Weep no tears like a gentle spring rain
I will die and live again
Where never more will come the night
In the green fields and bright sunlight
Let the ships sink!
Let the towers burn!
Let the world crumble to ruin!
My absence will not stop the inevitable
My presence will not hasten it
I am a cloudy day
I am an open grave
Waste
The world is a better place without me
Especially in a churchyard