Sometimes I just sit And feel The adrenaline That courses In my veins Constantly I caress it Let it flow Through my flesh Feel it run Down my spine Through my arms To the tips Of my fingers Sometimes it makes Me sick My stomach turns Aches My head beats Loudly Droning To my pulse Which is consistent And fast I smile I love it I want more I feel like a Maniac
If its worth it, well... You will feel tired... You will feel sick... You'll feel like there's nothing left to give... Then, you'll have to do it all again tomorrow... With everything, give it all you got, and then some... If its worth it
Sick beyond repair Quick to find despair Unprepared and perpetually scared
Nobody cares…
Of free will and intent? Impossible—Creed’s quill inquires to how sadness is sent Minds invent what we seek to prevent
Immensely powerful Silent yet loud as hell Indistinguishable to the outside world
Preventable pain?
Worthless piece of—
“SHUT UP!”
Only voices of malicious disdain Vivid out and inside your brain
Then other people start to complain Barely aware friends flee and place the blame Deemed insane for an uncontrollable pain Fight to get better but it’s all in vain
Why fight it? Jump in front of that train, splat-crack and your blood can drain.
And it’s scary
No, it’s not, you're just a *****.
“Woah!” I exclaim. “Don’t be so derogatory.”
I’m not sorry.
Always take care of yourself Just don’t put words in my mouth
How lonely it is that no one understands Because it only makes sense to you You try to convey the feelings you hide Only fragmented images peek through There is not enough context to define What makes your demons so true How many times you had to lie There was no perfect time for the truth How easy it is to simply deny With a smile you tend to overuse As if you cannot cross a line Losing all willingness to pursue I use to think I was better than fine Only to realize it was clearly untrue I'm scared to share this burden of mine In case you might catch it too
Chronic illness isn’t Some beautiful Pale Girl sitting under a tree, Book in hand. It’s no romantic tragedy Or heartfelt tear-jerker It’s Sitting on the floor of your bedroom 2 am Trying not to cry because You wanted to be in bed three hours ago Your body didn’t. It’s Obsessively tracking every Food and drink Symptom and medication It’s Juggling four doctors and work All at once It’s Trying not to ***** Struggling to stand Fighting To exist
wrote this about my struggle with undiagnosed chronic illness.
You are the sunshine that lingers in my room when I feel so dark and lonely. You peek through my curtains blinding me with idea that I can get out of bed and nestle in blooming flowers and sprouting trees. Spring is coming you whisper to me but my mind is foggy, filled with thoughts of losing my self and trying to find myself again. You are the bird that chirps outside my window reminding me of the new day and the sunshine you are soon to bring in. You were the light of my life until you left leaving me lonely with little bird song to be sung and little sunshine to be felt.
