We are not dead yet(poetry): Plot twist and other magic tricks

39

How can you handle a person like me?
I am unstable, I have
These sleepiness nights
Where I used to think
The stars combust
when they sparkle in the milky way.
Too much then they will turn
into fairy dust disturbs
Anyone awake.

Alive, they will be left deaf by my
Uncontrollable outbursts
About politics and religion,
overexaggerated monotone
reaction in terms of
Metaphors and oxymoron.

I got crazy once,
And I'm not afraid to fall on
The heights
Of oblivion,
Master the art of deceiving
self-acceptance and self-worth,
I am infectious kind of living thing       

who's heart needs implant,

Disabled vertebrae,
In need of social attention

I, a certified
worrier in comes to my bloody relatives
That never seemed to care about
My clinical depression,
social anxieties,
Stage fright,
Hardly overcoming from
sexual trauma,
And my S-t-u-t-t-e-r,
my S-t-u-t-t-e-r,
My S-t-u-t-t-e-r,
S-t-u-t-t-e-r.