I forgot to fill my prescription.
How is it that I always forget something that makes such an impact on my life?
Without it, I am not myself.
or am I more myself?
Who is to say that depression and anxiety aren't characteristics as opposed to mental illness?

A chemical imbalance of the brain.
That's how the doctors describe it.
That's how we describe it,
To make ourselves feel less ashamed.

So I forgot to fill my prescription.
Sometimes I think I forget purposefully.
Is it possible to cautiously make a sub-consous choice?
Cause' I think I might.
I think I do it to make myself feel alive again.
**** being able to "function".
I don't see functioning as living.
I truly feel alive when I allow myself to indulge in the pain.

Treating the emotional agony as something that I shouldn't feel, only makes me feel more ashamed of it.

So instead I indulge.
I don't cry.
I don't cut.
I don't expose.
I indulge in my inner sadness.

It makes me feel like a rebel.
Indulging makes me feel more alive than the actual act of living.
And that terrifies me.

I terrify me.

Carelessly just running free.
Leaving behind the harsh reality.
Cause' we can't handle those who trample the dreams we see.

Don't you ever wonder what people see when they look at you?

And I don't mean the what they think of the way your hair shines in the florescent light.
Or how gorgeous your green eyes look when they are glossy from the sunlight.

But how they physically see you.
Because all eyes see differently right?

What if this whole time everyones eyes were meant to see things in an altered way?
What if I weren't sincerely legally blind,
with an astigmatism of 170 in the left eye and 180 in the right?

Maybe i'm meant to see everything in an altered way.
Maybe God, or Alhi, or Mother Nature or whatever higher power created human life meant for us to each view the world and the people in differently from one another.
For some people don't give me the slightest of a glance,
But i've had some say that their eyes are so attracted to the way my blonde hair glows under florescent lighting
and some who say that whenever i'm standing in direct sunlight my green eyes gleam strikingly.

Some don't see me at all, and a few have seen nothing more beautiful.

So maybe eyesight is just another way that we were meant to be different.
Maybe we ought to stop trying to be so alike.

It might lead us to something truly beautiful.