Fitting in.

Sitting by your studio,
drawing the courage to resign, you instead
ripped my esteem and fired me from work.
When I burned your office papers and switched-off core systems,
I was the one who was called crazy.

Sitting by your room,
drawing hearts on your wall, you instead
refused my proposal and asked me to move on.
When I broke your door open and showed my bleeding hands,
I was the one who was called crazy.

Sitting by your side,
drawing a gun from my coat, you instead
rejected my concerns and laughed at me cruelly.
When I shot your pretty head and explained it was for me,
I was the one who was called crazy.

Sitting by myself,
drawing in a bit of fresh air, you instead
restrained my wrists and threw me into confinement.
When I called your wits null and tried to break free,
I was the one who was called crazy.

Don't dress me in whites.
Don't label me unstable.
Don't ask me to calm down;
or co-operate.
I'm only trying to fit in.
Enthusiastically.

-end-

Background:
The poem highlights the life of a man suffering from Intermittent Explosive Disorder and Paranoid Personality Disorder. It shows a range of problems (in increasing order of importance to the patient): work, romance, personal, solitary - but all bringing about a similar overreaction by the patient, as well as distaste and distrust of the world. To him, everything is a conspiracy to prove him 'crazy', so to say.

The poem structure is mainly anaphoric. Further, corresponding lines of each of the first four stanzas, have similar choice of words and structure; they appear to bring about a set of discipline in the poem but are actually alluding to the repeated nature of things as seen by the patient.