Mental Illness Poems

Tics~ Puppet

I am a puppet on someone else's hand.

I can not control the words that came out of my mouth

Or the motions my body makes

I have been told its a lie

That I can control my master's movements

I have been looked at

Like I am a monster

Although tics may appear, disappear, and reappear

It's a long-lasting fear

That there is a monster inside my skin

And people will judge.

Sometimes I say bad words

Or hit myself or others

I do not mean to

But I don't have a choice

And at the end of the day: my neck is sore

My body is tired

And I am sad

That this "monster"

Is still here