Schizophrenic Poems, Short Stories, and Thoughts

Tend to me,
Oh incessant laborers
Of the night;
For daylight screams violence,
Crazed as time, and as
Relentless as existence;
We bleed turmoil
Doused in our own sins!

Vouch for me,
Oh friends, tossed in thought, 
For we seek acceptance,
For the terror of our own 
Incessant means,
For we are still bleeding;
And still,
Anemic

Save me please
Oh blessed Father,
For life seems to confuse;
Lost in the shadows of life,
Because reality seems like
A matrix, fake and generated
Dissociated and emotionless
In the absence of being held