This is not a poem

Psychopaths gesture to me.
They give me signals.
And symbols.
Psychopaths think they can pick up signals and symbols
of things with greater meaning;
they also give signals to the world.

I don’t just see the psychopaths.
I pick up on their distorted world.
I feel vulnerable to psychopaths
like they can trap me in their world
because they know that I know their world.
Or at least it feels to me as though they do.
I feel as though they pick on me
because they know I’m susceptible.

When people are ‘seeing’ another world from that of reality,
I just look at them
and somehow I can see their world.
I fear I could fall straight in.
When I see their worlds,
they recognise me
And give me the signal
Trying to lure me in.

I’ve never gone further than a few sentences with most psychopaths
since I’ve been an adult (real adult).
But I was almost always living in someone’s distorted world
where nothing fitted
When I was a child
I was living in my own distorted world.
I wonder if I was drugged.
I’m not actually sure.
It seems I was on drugs as a child.
Unless it was my mind creating dreamy altered realities as a way of coping.

I tried to give people the signal
When I was a child
But no one ever did anything