What I want on this life can never be achieved.
Dear Santa, I've been a very good boy this year please let me walk.
I let it eat me alive.
It takes control because I let it.
It's a hopeless disease.
Doctor cure me, please.
These thoughts hold me captivated.
Lesser.
Broken.
Asking questions I will never get answers to...
Why?
Illusions in my mind tell me to believe I'd be better off six feet under.
I wish to escape this body.
I wish to escape this prison.
I'm tired of feeling like my life is second to all.
I am drowning in a sea of people who can't seem to understand me.
Can't seem to except me.
My darling I am sorry I cannot open the door for you.
I am a poor excuse for a man.
But please let me take a bullet for you.
Let me serve you.
Let me protect you.
Let me be a precious metal you sculpt into something useful.
Something beautiful.
Even turn me into a locket to hold a picture of the man who made you feel in ways I could never.
Let me keep him safe.
Let me keep you safe.
Let me keep your smile safe.
My darling please allow me a purpose.
-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...
