I write words to have a friend

Oh, illness you are crushing me
Death’s door begs to open for me
Brain I cannot handle
Strangles my brain, scrambled
Hurts, the pain rambles
Voices, not my friends
Where are my friends?
I cannot hear anyone
Nothing in my peripheral lens
Cats meow and rub on my leg
Don’t want to stink and
Bloat around them
Anne, car, garage, exhaust
What am I if not lost?
Sylvia, thirty, same as me
Left a son, my empty womb
I left no legacy, just my words
My laughter, my tears, isolation
Not my friend

Pills and pills and pills again
Try to fix the broken brain
Mistake, malfunction
I don’t belong
Shame on me for causing harm
Wearing out my welcome
Pain, pain, cry, cry, cry
Codependent, alcohol
Yelling, throwing glass at my anger
Mom, I wanted, held close
Needed affection, ignored
Trouble, shame, shame
What is wrong with you?
Why can’t you act like everyone else?
I am not like everyone else
No one can see inside my brain
No one can feel my kind of pain
I write to hear myself
You are my company, my friend

C. L. J.

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