When Voices Distort

This too, is about depression, but please tell me how my poems are!!!

When voices distort
In my raging mind,
I try to thrust them away-
But they resurface.
They seep their way
Into my mind.
Seeming more crucial
Than anything.

When voices interlace,
And writhe and conform...
My imagination-my mind,
With what I call reality...
I seem to not know
What is real anymore.


I scream and contort...
My muscles twitch as I
Wring my hands.
Sitting in my corner...
I cry.

When voices wrench
The good and the bad,
With all that is pure...
Mixing them together...
They seem to be one...

Then, I realize that,
I can never evade,
Escape or elude them.
I am forever doomed
To my eternal sorrow.

         I shall never be cured.

For these voices will never cease....
To distort.