Speed of Sound

sick

july 8, 2015

im sick.

i dont have a cough. i dont have a fever. i cant go to a doctor and get stitched back up.

i have the tattoo of the illness. it wont go away. i cant scrub it off. its permanent. its forever.

i dont get to choose. i cant tell it to leave me alone. i dont even know what caused it. "why are you like this?" they ask, but i cant peep a word because i ask myself the same thing every single day.

some people think its stupid. some people think im doing it for attention.

some people think that i dont understand what real struggle is. that my life is too "good" to feel this way. and they think that telling me this is going to make me change my mind. they think that their words are antidotes to the poison in my head.

but it just makes it worse. it makes me feel bad about myself. it allows more demons to crawl in my head and poke their noses in my thoughts and whisper rumors that stick like glue. i try to convince myself that im okay. nothing is wrong. i dont have a reason to be sad. be happy.

but im lying to myself.

i can pretend to be happy so people don't open the gates for the darkness even more than i am on my own. but deep down, im a mess. im broken into tiny pieces. if being afraid were a crime, i'd be on death penalty. 

im just tired of being sick. im tired of waking up in the morning and feeling too numb to move. im tired of agony hitting me like a train at random moments and having to hide it beneath my skull. 

i want to be healed. but its impossible.