Sick to my stomach,
Sick of my face,
Sick and tired of every trace,
Sharp pains up my sides,
Wincing for the hurt,
And no, I will not change my shirt,
Aches, pains, hot and cold,
In two days, I'll be a little more old,
Sweat and shivers, wracking my frame,
But I'll still be lying here just the same,
I want, no, I need sleep, but it never comes,
Never comfortable, so I tap my fingers and hum,
I lay cold and sweaty with no mercy to me,
I change positions, but I'm only distracting myself so I don't see,
The nausea creeps up, as an uninvited friend,
I'll keep holding it in til the end,
The pressure so great I whimper and groan,
Tears prick my eyes, but I'm still alone,
Silence greets me from my fitful wake,
I still need deep breaths to take,
Morning breath and damp hair,
Seems to surround me everywhere,
Sick and tired, sick and tired,
That's all I'll ever be,
Whether actual sickness, or mental health,
That's just fundamentally me.
A/N: So it's short, but if you didn't get it from the poem, I am sick. And my birthday is in a couple days. Woo, I'm having a sick day and I just hope I won't be sick on my birthday. So,
Until then.
~~RDP~~
YOU ARE READING
Living In The Mind's Cage
PuisiThe poems start inexperienced, I was younger then. As you read further it shows my growth as a person and my fallbacks. Maturing slowly through each one. It's my mental journey. These are poems are my outlet and help me with my issues when I can't d...
