Not PoeticA Poem by Pastel NixI wrote this poem for my speech club.Enjoy
My pain is not poetic.
People who don't know Shouldn't write about it. I can't just forget about it The nights I can't breathe. The fear and sadness That take over me. Too many people Make it seem cute. How would you feel If this all happened to you? The mornings I force myself out of bed. Telling myself It is all in my head. It is in my head because, That is where mental illness lies. It is not a joke, People need to realize. It isn't cute, It ruins our lives. How long must it take for everyone To figure out no one should want this. That fear and emotion That takes over and makes it impossible To do even the simplest things. Those hard-to-get-up mornings And hard-to-sleep evenings are things I would never wish upon anyone else. I never wanted this. Why would anyone want this?! Mental illness is not a quirk, It is real and terrifying And utterly like ruining. Anxiety to the point I can't enjoy football games, Watching the boys. I had to take pills To chase away the shakes and chills. To chase away the fear of crowds. Fear of anything that made me uncomfortable. My illness left me unable, But people throw their self diagnosis Onto the table. Like a card game, Winning over pity. What a shame. If you are physically sick, Everyone rushes to help with it. But if it is something in your mind, People can't care to share their time. I was suffering alone with my anxiety And no one cared what happened to me. The fear and pain still eats me alive. I am so numb, I feel like I've died. My pain is not poetic. And anyone who doesn't know Should never write about it.
© 2017 Pastel NixAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on October 5, 2017 Last Updated on October 5, 2017 Tags: Anxiety, Poem, Pain, Fear, Mental Illness Author
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