I get up at three in the morning,
Here we are again I have the shakes,
I sit up and clutch my stomach,
No one knows how much it aches.
They rush me to The E.R.
I was only eight.
But it was worse then they knew
It would make me carry weight.
Walking around feverishly,
Every single day.
Going to the hospital every other month
Growing up with pin pricks and needles,
This isn't what I want.
It drains me.
Oh how strong I must be.
So don't you dare ever say you wish you were me.
YOU ARE READING
Excerpts From A Book Ill Never Write| #Wattys2018
Poetry©2017 By dallywinston1738 or Annaka Logue or Annaka Marie ||All rights reserved.|| ||Plagerism is punishable by law|| These silent thoughts were stuck in my head. Wanting, begging,pleading to be let out. They never ended up becoming more than a few...
