My stomach hurts.
I'm not sick,
I'm anxious.

My heart is racing.
I'm not having a heart attack,
I'm anxious.

I have chills.
I don't have a fever,
I'm anxious.

The thermometer says 102 degrees.
Now I know I'm sick
And anxious.

Ignore the signs of mental state decline
I’m fine is the typical reply

Depression is used so often that the word
Loses meaning as quickly as the life its leaning.

And isn't that exactly right?
You get one word to describe your problem
Your feeling overlooked, alien, lonely, and sad.
And society makes that word as useless
As all the others you scream at no one.

Makes me want to burn the world down.

Even if eyes fall
On warm and soft
Smiles

Even if fingers grip
The warm and soft
Skin

Even if words heard
Are warm and soft
Spoken

I’ll still slight the stone
For seeing only you
For feeling nothing after you
For hearing the end.
That cold and hard
Lump.
I’ll still slight that stone.

I feel the weight of expectation.
The pressure of responsibility
bares down
like it can feel I’m straining.
Every moment I get closer to
collapse.
Every second, strength surges in some endless
final push of effort.
A lifetime of uphill climbs in the time it takes
to shamefully look away.

That smile bounced off the hull.
I can still feel the vibrations in the metal shell,
all this time later.
I saw it coming, took evasive action
you know, like they do in the movies,
and slammed right into it anyway.
Knocked me off course,
broke some sensors,
sent spinning off into the void for months.
Sensors eventually came back online,
course corrected but forever altered.

So many times I have been the envy of others.
"You're so lucky" they say,

There's been many times I have wondered how I got you.
Why you'd want me, let alone love me.

I don't feel lucky.
You have crushed me.

They can have you.
I am done.

Sick.

Is it fun to be sick?

Headache,

Cold,

Vomiting,

Crying,

Coughing,

Gagging.
­
Yes.

It is very fun.

I want to suffer.