Whenever I am sick at heart,
a river of never ending thoughts
flows inside me.
A state of utter confusion besieges me.
Tears are at the brink of falling.
My heart at the verge of collapsing.
Sense of complete helplessness surrounds me.
This in when words come in for my rescue
"Writing is real healer"

#21

I'm stuck between the
past and the future.
memories and dreams
life and death.

I've been distorted
Like the melody
Of an electric guitar
The highs and lows clipped
Sounding darker
Adding edge
And not what I was

This sickness?

Being yelled at for throwing tantrums
That were really panic attacks

Beating yourself, hurting yourself
Because you made a mistake

Being confused that no one had hurt you
But you were always in pain

Being told to just calm down
And to stop overreacting

Being unsure if you want to be better
Because maybe it’s just your personality

Not trusting yourself anymore
Because there’s medication in your head

Wanting to feel numb
Because inside everything hurts

Wanting to get high
Because inside you feel numb

Always wondering if you’re okay
And knowing the answer is probably “no”

So if you want to know
What it is that ails me
This is it
This is what I’m fighting