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It's a disease, not a choice

By Brandi DeMaris WelchPublished 5 years ago 1 min read

Feeling out of your skin.

Not knowing what comes next.

Who you’ll be.

How you feel.

What is the outcome going to be?

Mind races.

I can feel my heart beat.

Am I acting different?

Can people notice?

What do I do now?

Am I okay?

Am I really me right now or am I just an illusion?

I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you.

I’d never do that.

But wait, you just told me I did.

The confusion and the anxiety kick in.

Please forgive me.

I don’t remember.

I’m lost.

I hurt the most for the actions I do.

I break when I can’t recognize my identity.

Did you know that?

Come back.

Stay.

Don’t leave.

I don’t do well with change.

Yet unfortunately that’s out of my control now.

It really wasn’t me in my mind.

Not knowing the past from the present.

Disconnected. Disassociated. Depressed.

Who am I now?

Do you love me?

Am I good enough?

Do you believe me?

Someone hear my silent screams.

Take away the emptiness of the unknown.

Understand it is a disease not a choice.

I’m human.

Can you hear me?

Did I do something wrong?

I’m sorry.

Save me from these people inside my head.

Save me from these demons.

Save me from my decisions.

Save me from my past.

Save me from myself.

Or instead, accept me for who I am when I can't.

slam poetry

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