[ WP ] You are a schizophrenic maddeningly in love with the man/woman of your dreams . But you 're becoming increasingly unsure if she 's real , or just another hallucination .

I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I 
 
 Seventeen'I's. Seventeen eyes. Eight pairs of eyes and one alone and green and red, glowing like a Christmas tree in undulating significance. 
 
 You walk to me, strut saunter shake swag in my direction, sinking sinking sinking down to my level, dime store high heels clicking ticking clicking clocking mocking me, moving me, using me. Dime bag in hand of the spoon full of sugar to help the medicine go down. 
 
 Sink it all down to my level. Eye level. I level with you when you ask me for my stipend and I show you only my heart in hand, shattered sentiments of madness, mirrors reflecting my mind in its fragments that will never, could never, should never be put back together. 
 
 I tell you that I love you and you lick your lips lasciviously, glittery glowing groaning lipstick coating the red pillows that earn you your precious dollars that you for some reason think I have. But I do n't want what you sink down to your knees to give. I want only your heart in turn, your affections hellbent and thus far successful on destroying me. 
 
 I've beat you to the punch, though: the red of your lips seeping across my knuckles and down my hands as the mirror in front of us lie shattered, reflecting not our visage in whole, but our mind and heart which seek nothing but the comfort of your adoration. 
 
 We abandon me. 

