A ramble/vent.
False perceptions
I am almost entirely sure that an honest conversation with a doctor would leave me with a schizophrenia diagnosis.
I haven't had that conversation, I don't plan to, the judgment I face to hear what I already know would ache.
People look at individuals like me and they treat them as if they aren't human, they don't realize I am the person who is being judged so harshly.
They look at me like I'm crazy when I tell them about the bugs.
I know they aren't real, but I perceive them crawling all over me.
I don't worry about this if things remain how they are today, a quiet struggle.
Even in my greatest moments of disconnect I didn't lose face.
I didn't lose face when I thought I was dead or dreaming.
I didn't lose face when I was talking to people who weren't there or were sure I wasn't human.
When the moments hit I rarely see them.
I don't see the crazy until I'm out of it.
YOU ARE READING
Letters from sixteen
PoetryA poetry book I wrote during periods of my life with many different facets. I wrote about happy moments, addiction, and trauma, the book becomes more depressing as it goes on. I choose the title "letters from sixteen" to capture how I wanted to capt...
