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Jurtin Albine
Poems
Sep 2016
Afflicted
I’m sick,
can’t you see?
I’m unwell,
can it be?
I don’t understand
what the intentions are
towards me.
I feel like there are ticks
burrowing beneath my skin…
My mind exasperates the hate
and twists the praise
into disgrace.
Never good.
Never good enough.
Never great.
Like a memory
built upon a dream...
but real
and
without
escape.
Written by
Jurtin Albine
26/M
(26/M)
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