You Just Don't Know

you just don't know
how hard
the tight fingered grip on
my darkling instinct
has to be.
it is relentless,
even now
in a time of relative neutrality.
between my louder demons
and lesser angels,
i still leave a mental crimp
at the impenetrable door i've
erected between myself
and everybody else.
if i create bloody brambles
of my own self loathing,
imagine what damage others
can do if i allowed them near
my poor fragility?
and then when i let go
confident that all will be well
and it is not,
the madness greets me again
taking the words
(my best friends)
on a rambling race
becoming jumbled barbs in my head.
so no, i cannot, i will not
be free;
a laughing jester
with new friends and lovers,
because with freedom,
comes chaos
and i can never live madly again.
i can still cry though,
in my rocking chair,
because quiet loneliness
is a bitter prize for sanity.