My mental illness is a silent film.
I will not speak.
I am not worthy of words.
I am not worthy of you.
Or anyone for that matter.
Men suffer in silence.
We cannot explain.
We do not know how.
We take pills to dull these emotions.
The pills dull everything.
Am I happy?
Am I sad?
Am I content?
Why am I so scared all the time?
All questions I struggle to answer.
Men do not express.
Men hurt.
Men hurt themselves.
Men hurt others.
Funny how society tells men they need to suffer in silence but when I formed the scar on my shoulder all I could hear was the sirens and the worried cries of family.
A bar in Newport.
How did you get that Alex? It is seen by a relative.
Ma interjected with an excuse of a story so bad I can't even remember it.
Oh...
You need to start telling people you got into a fight boy!
Why?
Why does violence translate to male pride?
Do actions of violence and anger make me more of a man?
If so... why?
We have already discussed that I'm not a fighter.
I cannot fight.
I shall not attempt to fight.
I shall just let my silent film unfold before me.
-XR
YOU ARE READING
Moments of gladness, moments of sadness & everything in-between.
PoesiaI'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...
