Psoriasis

Is it ok, that I think I may cry?

When I look in the mirror and see with my eyes,

The red lumps and patches, I'm letting them win,

They're growing and spreading all over my skin.

They feed on my stress and they feed on my tears,

They feed on all bad things like angers and fears,

Yet they bring all the tears, the anger, the stress,

It's not just my body, my heads now a mess.

Although I am sad, a tear I won't shed,

Fighting the war going on in my head,

As I'm thinking I'm scratching, I now start to bleed,

It makes it look worse, this is not what I need.

I'll tell you I'm fine, I'll say I'm not sad,

'It could be so much worse, it's really not bad'

I'm lying, it's hell, though I mean what I say,

I'm not dying, I just hate myself more everyday.