Oh the ungrateful...
The lack of perspective,
Commitment to complaining,
Lack of compassion,
Allergic to compromise,
Unaware of their fortune,
Shining in a self-crafted crown.

Sensitive, soft,
Sweet, kind, giving,
Adorable, petite,
Young, naive, innocent.
That's what you see.
Your eyes create many illusions.

Your ordinary day is very different from mine
It is the kind of day that breaks into song
That smoothly blends from one scene to the next
With little complication or care to details
It is a day I could only dream of.
Though I rarely dream with this disease
This illness running through every vein
Turning my smiles into forced grins
The light in my eyes dulling
My hair and skin is tainted, touched by this sickness.
I wake up every morning, toxins flowing through me.
I wonder what it is like to have an ordinary day.

I crawl into bed, naked,
Leaving no excuse to leave.
My body melts into the sheets,
Every limb relaxing,
Every part of me letting go,
Except for my mind.
It races and demands my attention,
Like a child incessantly tugging at my sleeve.
I turn over and pull the blanket up.
Warmth envelopes my fears,
Engulfes my cares.
Still, my stubborn brain carries on.
I fight back with vivid fantasies of closing my heavy eyes.
A fight that I win, at least for tonight.
Goodnight body, goodnight mind.
Tomorrow is another day.

Life breathed into me
Its last breath
Leaving me empty and sullen
Unforgiving and cold
A murderous mind
Calculated moves
Dead, dark eyes.

I feel my dignity fall all around me
A light melody
Playing carelessly in my head
A chorus of voices,
In confusing, imperfect unison.
They are here to stay, at least for today.
It's the psychosis again. Sinking in.

The world may be dark and cold
But I am no stranger
Treated like an innocent,
When I am everything but.
I know how evil people can be,
Though I have seen acts of great good.
We have no way to predict
And must let go of this desire
To know and judge strangers.