The poets' narrative shares, "The language of psychosis"

The Poets' Narrative shares inspired words by those touched by madness, including myself - poems & stories. Today the poem is "The Language of Psychosis" and the proper definition of this psychiatric term is below. 
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Here are 2 definitions for psychosis to consider:

• American Heritage Dictionary: “A severe mental disorder, with or without organic damage, characterized by derangement of personality and loss of contact with reality and causing deterioration of normal social functioning.”
• Michelle's definition: “An inspired state (such as a vision which may be similar to downloading archetypical information from a distant source) that is common in those who identify or call themselves bipolar or schizophrenic and is typically accommodated to varying degrees with madness and reckless behavior.​ 

The Language of Psychosis
by Michelle Murphy

My God? A fragrant or pungent Smell of incense?
Helen of Troy & Aphrodite? Cassandra? Ecstasy?
Aliens - not from Mexico? And prophets, shamans?
Madmen? Signals & microwaves, OR the red planet on it's way?

The Jinn of fire & smoke, us of clay & earth
Or an electrical frequency giving way to inter-dimensional
beings usually In hiding? I see clones and wannabes,
Protectors. I'm terrified. Relay the situation - Quick!

Also fallen angels, devils and prehistoric contemplators,
Tempters & liberators, wishful thinkers riding my back,
Sitting on my shoulders, offering everything, tormenting,
Screaming, inciting police, digging needles into my arm.

Where is my tinfoil hat? The signals have forsaken my 
Privacy and I am under attack. I follow the footprints back
To my nest egg of hot coffee and smoking sticks where I can 
Share information with elite agents about the Trail I'm onto.

I tell them my eggs are not for sale, my blood is not for sale, my 
Soul is not for sale. My cats are not hypnotized. The snakes upon
Her head have turned My heart to stone. I cannot fear more than I can fear.
I cannot tremble more than I can tremble. My mission is too extreme.

Where is my God? In the embers of the fire, in the atoms
Of the clay, in the DNA of the prehistoric contemplators,
In my head, OR All of the above if He is omnipresent. But
I said where? I'm on auto-pilot but who's driving?

Tell me the words I shall speak by which I may make
Others understand. Does my language have to be of one spirit?
No, it can be that of a young wizard striving towards manhood, or a 
Poet seeking beauty in her inner world. Pure magic nevertheless.

The sacred is Defined as the waring sides of light and
Darkness, the yin and yang, interconnected but very ???
Scientific - yes. Factual - yes. Spiritual, Alien - Yes too.
All the contexts serve the language of psychosis right.

My conspiracy is that somewhere in the cosmos something
Is conspiring - not against, but also with me. Is God in charge
For real or am I an unbeliever in Deliverance? Striving to understand
The true Nature of reality. For all I have seen since birth is wire strings.

Deliverance. Deliverance. Yes. Here I am again. Delivered.
The tin foil hat did its job, Cassandra is my middle name,
And the red planet sent my lunar cycle into a tail spin, but
It's time to travel into the future, I'll ride the 3D and 4D train.

The cycles of the lunar moon got my PMS going - Psychosis
Minded Symptoms. Meet me, myself and I in the future with or without
My PMS. But for Pete's sake - Speak the lingo! Magic discourse.
Read words of deliverance to keep me out of the gutter too.