I am angry.
I'm angry that I can't open a door, nor tie my shoelaces.
I'm angry that after a weekend of blissful normality I'm back here again.
I'm angry that I can't remember compliments but can remember the terms 'Spastic,' 'Retard', 'emotionally manipulative', 'scary' is used to describe me.
I'm angry that I overthink everything.
I'm angry that everything scares me.
I'm angry that I can't un-sow my heart from my sleeve.
I'm angry that I can't sort myself out.
I'm angry that I don't have a non-seemly dramatic way of expressing myself.
I'm angry that I don't feel comfortable enough to explain any more to anyone.
I'm angry that I don't have the words to explain.
I'm angry that I can't keep myself together convincingly.
I'm angry that I can't man up.
I'm angry that I have isolated myself.
I'm angry that I can't seem to keep or make friends.
I'm angry that I believe I'm worthless.
Regardless of what those that love me say.
I'm angry that I'm disabled.
I'm angry because I don't like being angry.
-XR
YOU ARE READING
Moments of gladness, moments of sadness & everything in-between.
PoetryI'm an 18 year old boy with Cerebral Palsy, depression and anxiety. I'm a British Hipster Punk Fuck who has dreams of happiness and independence. Living with my difficulties can be saddening and difficult so to cope I draw (follow my Instagram: ale...