****** me ,
out of the womb
painful visual images.

put me to sleep
on a quiet night
in my nice coffin
I waited for

until my eyes were open.

Screamed in the morning, wailing in the afternoon
shriek at night.

Each up toned voice, I will recite "I miss you."
A voice spoken, a slit vocalization

visualized
I miss you.

dejected from the synonyms
no words miserable, muted.

I should be asleep,
but that's only when my eyes feast on images and sounds in my head from memories.
I am awake, and I'll regret it in the morning
you are too much on my mind to sleep,

goodnight.

I once was told when I was younger
that life isn't fair,
that I was ugly,
dumb
that no one in this ******* world could be stupid enough to love me.
That I am just in a mere sense of state, of happiness, that I didn't deserve that, I shouldn't get this.

but I didn't believe.

I am now older, and I believe it all, but now that I believe it,
people tell me, that those are just negative thoughts, obscene gestures over ones self.
However older now, and more aware, why is it you tell me they are negative thoughts when older, but younger you tell me it is trust, truth, honesty.

Why is it, that if I tell
a friend,
adult,
teacher,
consoler,
that these are the thoughts that are in my mind constantly days after days, why is it that I am told, I am the crazy one, I am the depressed one, I am the one that should be put in a mental hospital, that I need the medication,  Why am I that one?

I am now in this mindset, I am now stuck with gestures of myself.
But if you point a finger at me,
merely I suggest you read over your lips again.