Dsclmr: Everything belongs to JK Rowling. Duh.
An idea that was stuck in my head. If you hate it, I'm sorry.
I know its in a weird form. Just go with it.

I'm not crazy.
I'm not crazy.
I'm not crazy.

If only I could tell them that.

There is a difference between losing your mind, and your mind losing contact with the rest of your being.
Unfortunately, the only ones who can see that difference are like me, and are incapable of communicating it.

Everyday is an out of body experience. I see this withered ancient woman who is not truly me. She is barely an essence of what I used to be.

I have very little control over her.

Stand up.
Sit down.
Lie down.

I see the pain in my son's eyes.
The unwarranted pain.
He doesn't think that I recognize him.

This damn shell. She doesn't recognize him.

I do.

I know all that he's done.
I love him more that he will ever know.
Despite what his gran says, I believe in him.

Why doesn't anyone believe in me?

Stand up.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Left foot.
Reach out.

I give him a sweet wrapper, stolen from another patient's gift basket.

He doesn't understand.
I wish he could.

I give him a candy wrapper.
Because that's all I can do anymore.

"Thanks Mum." He says.

That's all I get from anyone.

They patronize me.
Like I'm a child.

I'm not a child,
And I'm not crazy.
I'm not crazy.
I'm not crazy.