Others tell me to shower.
I don't.
I can't.
I try to get up
My legs don't move.
I try again.
I don't move.
My hair sits a rats nest on my head.
The grease of it making my hair shine like the night stars.
I hate it.
Yet I still can't move.
I pull my hair up to conceal what I can't do.
That others do so easily.
They tell me to.
That it's easy.
It's not.
Others say I'm just lazy.
That I'm faking it.
I'm not.
I wish I could do what you do so easily.
But I can't.
YOU ARE READING
My poetry, I suppose
PoetryThis is a compilation of my poetry on my mental health, thoughts, just me having fun writing, friendships, and eventually more. Some of these poems could be triggering and will have TW's on them so if you read this please lookout for those! I have b...
