What does this poem say about the person who wrote it?

[Jaide]

I did not write it. Some details about the person who did: female, age 25, married to a man one year younger, bisexual/bicurious, I have suspected that she is narcissistic or histrionic and that she has slightly below average intelligence. I left the spelling/grammar and everything just way she wrote it.

"A poem that is untitiled.

I see the darkness. Filled with death. It calls to me and says I wont have regret. A mysterious madien and a violent shadow over throw my minds equal vision. Please erase my memory of the past.
Like a addict I am enraptured in a pool of blood red visons. Its a frequent illusion of mine to know whats real. Cant escape the self or the lack of self. Cant exit when the door is held shut. My mind is a cage filled with waves waves waves of toxic waste. Waste of green and slime. I guess I better get a boat soon.
Yeah I sit in my cage in my bird cage and I feel the enraged violent tendency to attach a knife to my hand. I have spare parts and Im just trying out the new hand I built myself. Gonna exchange this one for someone elses. It fits I guess. Wow a lot of blood goes into building a new hand. Gonna try it out and see if it helps me write better or conduct a symphony in paint. Gonna try to see if I can use it to erase the bars made out of paste. Maybe it has a mind of its own. Like my own mind. And Im just a puppet. Like a serious disease thats invisable. Like a serious misstake.
My past is filled with darkness. It over flows and wont shut off. I cant get the crap to turn off. I am gonna break that stainglass window. Its dumb and I love the sound of glass falling in shards to the floor. Estatic! I can use this for some more replacements. Like replacement toes or eyes. Melt down the glass and make some violet eyes for myself. Purple eyes to see in the dark.
Darkness does nothing. Darkness does much. Darkness does laugh at me. I create to save my soul. Creations creating. Like robots pretending to be human. We are what God paints. So how could a artist destroy a masterpiece? You tell me this. What is hell but a place to take out the trash? Why create something so beautiful just to destroy it? Why cant God just recycle?
And I guess heaven is a gallery of souls if hell is a trash can. They got in and everyone knows.
I guess I got the low brow end of the painting scale in life. Guess Im a fictional character in some stupid story just to make you feel like life actually matters. Dreams dont happen in daylight. They happen at night. So I guess the dark and the stars love me. I feel like Van Gough."

 

[daffy]

Im not a psychologist so i cannot analyse what must have been going on thru her mind at the time when she wrote it, but its fairly obvious that she was a troubled soul when she wrote it.

Have u tried talking to her about this poem or are the 'private' to her. I write a journal and poems (if you can call them that) and the poems arelike a diary of emotion.

If you tink shes in need of medical help suggest you go to the P with her thenyou can tell the G of yourconcerns

 

[saffron]

I dont know anything about the lady or want to try to analyse it as a psychologist, but I look at it as if it were english literature and feel this,
the subject is confused, lost and trapped at the same time, is the only way to break free is to rid herself of life itself, with no regret, is this the only way she can forget the past, she is then confused by how she should feel by her past, by her decisions, her curiosity that maybe felt right at the time but may well give her feeling of shame or non acceptance from major influences in her life,
her mind is rushing back and forth like the waves but cannot conclude, its never ending, how confusing, shes trapped by this mental block that neither allows her to accept or forget, there is guilt there but irrational guilt.
The hand is a significant part that relates to her only release, but if it were someone elses she could release in a way she perseives someone else does, her thoughts at the moment are dark so she thinks it would be easier to be someone else, the blood signifies hurt, she will hurt. feeling like you have no control of yourself must be like being a puppet but one thats cursed with thoughts that seem to affect ones self without it being obvious, hence the disease, likea mistake you want to erase but cant.
she tries to shut out her past but cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel but even a glimpse of a breakthrough evokes feeling of elation, though she feels in real life this would be impossible to achieve because she has to learn to forgive herself for her past experiences, if she replaces her eyes she will see things different, if she replaces her toes she will go different places.
the only way of redemption and solace is to let others learn by your feelings in an artistical powerful way.

thats what I saw anyway.'
S