"I'm sorry there's nothing we can do prepare to say goodbye. He's not strong enough".
I fear they're right 18 years later.
Ma held me tight.
Now the Prozac does the same.
Acting as a puppet master.
I'm not allowed to take what's mine.
Instead of being pulled in the direction society wants.
Dragging me out of bed.
Putting me into queues for therapy that probably won't last in a similar fashion to my happiness.
I want to cut the puppet master's strings.
Act autonomously.
Act normal.
Act happy...
I don't want to act at all anymore.
I want to feel.
I'll continue to strike at the strings with the blades on a regular basis. I'm hoping they snap soon... but until they do I will just look forward to tomorrow.
-XR
YOU ARE READING
Moments of gladness, moments of sadness & everything in-between.
PoesíaI'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...
