Poetry Series – Sickness

My disgust with life has returned tenfold and I’m struggling to get anything out even though it’s arguably the time I need to the absolute most.
The truth is, I need an outlet where I feel like I can be seen without feeling like I’m being watched. I thought this was it. Then I kept feeling crazy, absolutely psychotic, when I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched – that I was under attack, but only of bad thoughts. I believe you can still feel the attack, it’s just harder to pinpoint it’s location.
I’m tired of being angry, but I’m so pissed off that I spent so long feeling crazy when the whole time I really was being watched, hated, for telling my truth.
I’m so tired of having my guard up. Tired of looking at people as enemies when I’m afraid of attack. I just want the opportunity to soften, call my love and myself back. I say I’m tired but I’m really just so fucking sick of all of this.

Sickness

Sometimes I get sick.
I think I can justify saying this
mostly because it’s landed me in a hospital,
at least twice.
I never want anyone to know
because sick sounds weak
even though it takes strength
to find the courage to continually overcome.
Sickness
is rooted in how fucking sick of this
I am.
The world, I mean.
I can’t stand the world
the way the people in it have twisted,
become so twisted
that we justify hurting each other
if it benefits us
enough.
Really, I’ve had enough.
I’m so god damn sick
of being sick.
Yet I’m constantly so worried
because it’s clear I don’t fit
and I’m not willing to try anymore
so sometimes I just find myself
frozen, sick.

Much love, until next time.