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Jack Torrance
Poems
Apr 2018
Therapy
Internal scars,
infected with guilt.
A world on it's side,
a forty-five degree tilt.
One day I am fine,
and the next not so much.
It's a bipolar horror,
of memories and such.
I swear I just saw you,
but my mind's playing tricks.
It's like burning a candle,
to the end, with no wick.
I could swear I was crazy,
but my mind tells me no.
So we argue out loud,
a new ultimate low.
Please fix me i'm broken,
wait, stop. I'm ok.
It's the **** that I deal with,
on a regular day.
Now this purple gorilla,
is making me mad.
Did I say that out loud?
Ignore that, my bad.
Oh well, just forget it,
let's try to move on.
Oh yeah your not here,
I forgot you were gone.
Snap back to reality,
who's this guy I don't know?
He says he's my therapist,
times up I should go.
#therapy
#insanity
Written by
Jack Torrance
35/M/Oklahoma
(35/M/Oklahoma)
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