Thursday, May 9, 2013


PATIENT:  Stephanie M. Wytovich
SYMPTIOMS: Insomnia, possession, hallucinations, hysteria
STATUS: Insane, dangerous and delightfully mad


I didn't pick poetry.
Poetry picked me.
Ever since I was little, if I didn't write for a few days, I'd start to feel this ache in my chest that told me I was depressing my creativity. Lately, I've been doing nothing but working on my novel, yet that ache has been eating at me for the past couple of hours. I've come to recognize this feeling and got to know it very well, for now I only get it when a poem is inside of me, and I'm ignoring its words. So as a slave to the pain, I bring tonight's musings to the MADHOUSE, because after all, it is madness that drives me to the page night after night. 

Stay Scared,
Stephanie M. Wytovich

EVIDENCE: "Phantom Beat"

I gave my heart away,
Signed away the rights and
Yet I can still feel the phantom beat
In my chest,
Reminding me that I used to be whole,
And that at one point
I wasn’t so empty

TREATMENT: Beyond help

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