I'm sick
I'm sick
And not the, oh you have a fever or cold sick
I believe I'm not well mentally.
Where I have problems taking too many pain meds
Or the fact that sometimes I can't get out of bed
Not because I'm not able to, it's because I'm so damn exhausted from everything.
I wake up, and right away I want to go right back to bed.
I feel the weight of the world crashing itself against me
And my lungs can't bear it
I can't bare it
I feel as if I'm on the verge of tears ever so often
I feel as if I'm holding my breath and biting my tongue
Because well, one wrong move and I'm fucked.
I feel as if everything I do HAS to be perfect
I can't make any errors
If there are errors I'm not "trying enough" or "doing 100%"
My headaches are getting worse, and their cousin migraine makes its visit now and again.
I'm sick
I know I'm sick
But I can't let people know that
I can't let people know, that I'm okay with dying
I can't let people know, I don't get much sleep.
I have to keep my cheery attitude on point along with a smile and a little laughter here and there
It's exhausting...
But at the end of the day,
My bed has probably seen everything everyone hasn't.
My cries and sobs, along with prayers for help.
But...I'm not classifying what I have...
I just know...
I'm sick
a.b.
YOU ARE READING
A Beautiful Disaster
PoetryMy story. A story full of unforgettable thoughts. I've come to terms with these certain parts of my life. This is for the people who decide to read my poetry. I hope you find the motivation to continue to fighting like I did. #1 in slam (5/31/18) #1...
