They ask how I am doing but they don’t really care about the crusade that’s going on in my brain The violent clattering of voices, shouting over each other is driving me insane
But should I take a pill to rearrange the chemicals inside my brain, easing this lifelong pain? It’s the age old question: losing myself for the sake of sanity, is it worth swallowing a piece of me to free myself from this migraine?
But they don’t talk about the side effects, the closer they get the further away I push myself As if affection was to be feared, a feeling I could never deal with, that would leave me overwhelmed
As if asking for somebody to help was degrading, a dreading sensation that my mind needs to repel.