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dad
Chanise Jan 2019
dad
the worst human ever
I’ve known him for awhile
but his true colours are just showing now
pain and tears are on there way
thank you dad
Chanise Jan 2019
a state of unease
generalized dissatisfaction with life
never truly feeling bliss and joy
another sappy sad one
Chanise Jan 2019
not happy just sad,
its quite the opposite
Chanise Jan 2019
haven’t felt like me for a long time
don’t know if I will ever be like the girl I used to be
this might be a goodbye
that girl may die
goodbye
Chanise Jan 2019
talking about it hurts
hearing it hurts
pain keeps coming it still hurts
Chanise Jan 2019
paralyzed
helpless
lost in thought
Chanise Jan 2019
lost forever,
feet will not move,
for my mind travels far
Chanise Jan 2019
poetry truly is expressing myself through art without hurting myself or others
it is a release of anger and sadness
in exchange for happiness and joy
Chanise Jan 2019
bad day sad day want to just get through the day
crying dying that is all I feel today
full eyes no heart eyes I really dont feel good about this
filling with sorrow
joy no where to be found
what is lost can be found
years and tears down the road
Chanise Jan 2019
started in the morning feeling so small
I was really feeling like nothing at all
I don’t know why
getting dressed brushing my teeth
look in the mirror and what do I see
somebody that doesn’t look like me
I don’t know why
this is part of a song i wrote but is written like a poem hope you enjoy
Chanise Jan 2019
and with that this tortured soul is drifting away
body laying beneath the ground
one suicide note
two parents in pain
three cut marks
four sobbing siblings
five broken friends
six feet underground
this poem talks about suicide if you are triggered do not read
Chanise Jan 2019
I cannot fathom what is only just in front of me
so out of reach yet told not far from
I can smell the success near and dear
yet fail to feel its presence
Chanise Nov 2021
Tourette’s
uncontrollable
loud inside stares from outside
Suffering from inflated embarrassment and shame
Unknown, only known by me
suppressed until I cannot anymore
I am not my tics, but they are in me
they follow me, poke me jabbing to be included in my life
sudden, and uncomfortable they feel extreme
I blink excessively to shrug off the tickle in my brain
My shoulder seizes and jerks back in forth up and down
With no warning, I start to yell or grunt, scared of my excessive tics
I cry afterwards full of shame and misery
Hands start to flail as I rock back and forth
back and forth back and forth, I’m okay I am going to be okay
Comfort in the uncomfortable knowing my secret that cannot be exposed in my own company
but what about when there are others around me,
I hope no one noticed and I feel like a failure once again
I suppress when others are around and free my spirit when alone
I look at myself and my face contorts until it feels correct and the tics are over
Until next time I feel the uncontrollable
nonstop
smothering
repressed
constraint of my tics

— The End —