Why Do They Laugh?

Guest writer David writes about the pain of stigma in his poem 'Why Do They Laugh?'

Nobody understands
that I struggle with my self;
the oozing of my psyche,
people around
me stare, what's
happening
to me?

"He cannot learn,"
they chortle to
themselves. I try to
concentrate on their
eyes. I must look away,
like a passerby must
ignore a car crash.

But maybe I'm the victim-
the accident. Is that
what they see?

I know they're laughing.
"He's disturbing" or
"He's special" they
think. But what do
I do, instead of picking a
fight or acting normal,
I panic, I feel faint.
While they are being
amused there is one thought
on my mind- "Help me!".
But they don't. Why do
they laugh?
I've been deteriorating.
And slowly I have
noticed a fog, a deep
cloud that covers
one’s mind: schizophrenia.

I know I have it.
In a way I've always
known. It's not funny
to me. I want them to stop,
their laughs, but I know that
until that day, I'm
just hanging on.
I hope they realise
the pain and suffering
a snigger brings.