How is this poem and how can I make it better

I'm crazy
But I can't believe that
Or more pills will be poured
More hospitals to visit
So I'm fine
I think
That's what I tell myself
Cause I fear the worse
She tells me I'm crazy
She wants me to let go of all of it
But I can't I have to be numb
I have to be normal
Because it's what's best
But she keeps trying to come out
The meds help
But not always
She sneaks out and yells at me
I'm failing I'm always messing up
I'll never change
I can't help when her voice seeps out of mine
The anger and hatred
Do I really feel that way
I don't want to it scares me
Is this why everyone hates me
Cause I'm
Crazy
Or because of
HER

1 answer

Your poem powerfully conveys a sense of internal struggle and the feeling of being overwhelmed by mental health challenges. The raw emotion and candid nature of your words can resonate with many, which is a strong aspect of poetry. Here are a few suggestions for improving the poem:

  1. Enhance Imagery: Consider using more vivid imagery to illustrate your feelings. This can help paint a clearer picture and evoke stronger emotions in the reader.

  2. Pacing and Flow: Review the rhythm and pacing of your lines. Some lines can be restructured to create a more consistent flow. Experiment with line breaks and punctuation.

  3. Clarity of Themes: Think about the central theme you want to convey. Are you focusing more on the conflict between sanity and madness, the struggle with medication, or the relationship with “her”? Clarifying this can help unify your message.

  4. Show don’t tell: Instead of stating emotions directly, try to show them through actions or metaphors. This can make your feelings more impactful.

  5. End with a Strong Conclusion: The last lines of a poem are crucial for leaving an impression. Consider how you want to close the poem. A thought-provoking statement or question could provide a powerful ending.

Here’s a revised version of your poem that incorporates some of these suggestions:


I'm crazy,
but I can't believe that—
or else more pills will pour
like rain into my empty hands,
leading to more hospitals,
more sterile rooms.
So I tell myself I'm fine,
holding flickering candles
against a storm of fear.

She calls me crazy,
urges me to let go,
but I grip my numbness tight.
I wear it like armor,
convinced it’s what’s best—
yet she whispers,
a voice spilling from my veins,
breaking free to scream,

"I’m failing. I’m always messing up!"
Will I ever change?
Her words seep out,
dripping with anger and hatred.
Do I really feel this way?
My heart races at the thought—
is this why everyone turns away?

Because I'm
crazy,
or is it because of
HER?


Feel free to adjust it as you see fit! The essence of your original poem is still there, but with a slightly refined structure and a stronger closure.