Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

These pills. 
They say that they will heal me, 
but they modify my thinking skills. 
All they do is steal from me. 
They rob me of my logic, 
have me running for the hills. 
Some days are worse then others,
when I’m sick of all these prescriptions. 
 I wouldn’t need them, 
if it weren’t for all these damn brain incisions. 
Having my brain cut into different divisions. 
Making it difficult to make logical decisions. 
Nobody can see, 
cause all my problem are on the inside of me. 
None of them are visible, neither are they fixable. 
  To make it worse, I had to go through public school. Man we’re those kids cruel. 
They never understood, you see. 
Nobody was good to me. 
When I tried to explain one or two times, I  guess they were confused;
but instead of asking questions, 
they just abused.
  I guess calling me “tumor head”, 
was they’re was of being amused. 
I didn’t even have a tumor, 
I have two shunts. 
Everybody would say “it’s just middle school kids.” 
 yeah sure, but they’re fucking cunts. 
I never use that word, but to be honest it’s the most fitting. They thought they could just pass off the ridicule, by saying they’re “ just kidding”. 
  I tried to make the teachers aware of my condition, but they couldn’t understand if I gave them a definition.
The teachers were so formal. 
They just blew me off like it’s a behavioral issue, because I appeared to be normal;
and decided to suspend me when my ways continued. To me, that’s immoral. 
  A girl can only take so much harassment, and neglect. They see the outcome, what else would you expect? from years of lack of respect? I mean I understand their motives, when guys shoot up the schools.
I don’t condone it, although society made us feel and look like fools. That in no way though, makes it cool. 
  They really know how to break us. 
Pretend to be a friend, and later find they just tryna fake us. It’s the worst feeling you know, having someone convince you that they’re interested. Just to find out they’re making you a joke, one the whole school exhibited. 
Made me an embarrassment to my peers. 
dealt with the same shit, but evolved for about 8 years. Nobody cared when they saw me burst out in tears; in the middle of class. 
Why am I the one who got detention? 
I don’t want that kinda attention. 
Why do the bullies get a pass? 
Not only am I dealing with the aftermath of my surgeries, but I have to live in a habitat where I constantly have worries. 
  Now I count those calories, cause they made fun of my weight. Also when a guy shows interest in me, I’m afraid they’ll tell me their joking; on the first date. That’s what those kids did to my mind state. I can never get people’s true intentions straight. Made me so damn insecure, self pity became my worst trait. 
  I’ve been left with all of these anger problems and depression. So much ptsd, my anxiety takes me into disassociation. At first, I didn’t know what it was. I honestly feel like I’m in a different dimension. It’s the most complex thing I’ve ever had to describe. It feels like my perception is in an inception. 
  No wonder I have all this aggression. 
I can’t tell what’s reality or what I’m making up. Am I really here? Can I ever just say “ENOUGH!” ?!
My life is pretty tough. 
Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m not the only one. I actually belittle my problems, so I don’t go thinking I’m a “special” one. 
Cause I know there’s people out there, suffering worse than I am. 
 I feel guilty, when I self pity. 
But like, I’m suffering to. Damn. 

  I can’t even afford a gram, how will I numb this pain? I thought I was going crazy; That was until, I found out my mom is insane. 
I feel my life being sucked up, I think she’s secretly a drain. We fought  my whole life, and she’s not all to blame; but is she? cause I mean.. she’s insane. 
She has no limits, and different moods that come to visit. 
   Now, I’m the one with bipolar disorder. 
Though my therapist says she’s got more than a couple personalities, over the boarder. 
Something called “Histrionic” disorder. 
It’s the first time I ever heard that word. 
Though the definition fits her perfectly, 
She looks at herself as the leader of the heard. She’s a great chef though, and is good at keeping that pot stirred; thoroughly. 
  So when they prescribe me these blue and white pills, I guess there’s a part of me that the chemicals kill. So I take them, they keep me from tumbling down those hills, that they make me run to. Where I run away to, when I feel like I’m through. I hate these prescriptions, believe that. Except I still can’t understand these inceptions, I fade in and out of reality, like the cheshire cat.