It's something the world wants me
to pretend I don't have.
The world wants me to hide it,
To mask the pain
To numb the numbness.
So that I can fit into a society
that has failed as a society.
It is something I thought I'll never have
Little did I know,
It could happen to anybody.
This "something" is an illness.
A real illness.
As real as life and death.
An illness which poisons
An illness which kills.
YOU ARE READING
Chasing Horizons
PoetryWhen I saw life killing me, A thought crossed my head: I had spent my entire life chasing horizons. Horizons which I could never touch.
