I'm so sick of these people
I'm so sick of it all
I'm So sick of the lying
I'm So sick of trying
I'm so sick of the ignorance
I'm so sick of the hurt
I'm so sick of being used
I'm so sick of the arrogance
I'm so sick of the caring
I'm so sick of myself
I'm so sick of it all
But mostly of all
I'm so sick of the ones who made me fall.

she was sick,
but not in the way you'd except,
no, she was sick in a way that she'd come
to regret.

she was not in school for a week after that.
no one thought twice about it.
"maybe she's just sick..."
·
and she was sick
just not in the way they imagined.
not in the way they have all felt before;
not in the sneezing way
or the coughing way
or the sore throat way.
no, the delicate daisy had a
c o n t a m i n a t e d
mind.

Feeling so sick and tired of
Feeling sick and tired of
Being so sick and tired.

Crushed, crushed, crushing
The struggle to expand
- and my throat is closing again
Heat, hot, dry
Floats over ribs
Seemingly detached
Yet hugging me tight
Claustrophobic
- And this sickness
(I'm sick of this sickness)
Threatens to rise out
Threatens, bubbles, teases
But I'm all shut up now
Not a whisper to escape
Tired.
Brain fogs
Fingers doze
All is fuzzed over
All is removed
All is discomfort

The loosing fight
I sit alone on this dark night
And try to win a loosing fight
I try to stop myself I swear
To tell myself I ought to care
But even now I'm reaching out
And very careful not to shout
As the pain shoots through my wrist
I know full well I haven't missed

Am I loosing myself?
Or did I years ago?
Is that why I feel so empty inside?