A wide awake city in the dark.
I've been here before.
But I have not
been
here before.
Without chemical reactions
in my blood
I can feel the cold.
It's nice.
To feel.
As I walk,
not stumble,
I see faces,
not feet.
This is what they feel like.
The lights are bright
but not blinding
and I can tell
them apart
from the stars.
The palpitations
have settled.
There's no pounding in my chest
because I know
that I can rest safely.
And it's nice
not to feel sick.
Or in pain.
And it's nice to know
I don't have to be.
YOU ARE READING
HEAVY
PoetryIn this collection of poetry, Fee writes about their experience with mental illness, gender identity, relationships and finding themself as a seventeen year old.
