My chair’s too hard,
My back’s too sore,
My teeth are hurting
More than before.
The light’s too bright,
The sky too dim.
The room is too quiet,
But I can’t hear for the din.
My head won’t shut up,
The voices are jumbled,
And in the corner
My sanity is huddled.
My clients are fighting,
At least in my head,
And the room they are in
Is now painted red.
Now tell me again,
How depression isn’t real,
How anxiety is just nerves,
That we all get to feel.
I wish I could show you
Inside my struggling brain,
See for yourself
The battle and the pain.
Maybe then,
Your words would be kinder,
Your actions supportive
Without constant reminder.
Maybe then,
The world would be thoughtful
And my bad days
Would be less awful.
About the Creator
Lorelei_Sands
Professional copywriter and mother during the day. Poet, dabbler in fanfiction and erotica at night. I've been living with a long term chronic condition for over 20 years and I'm not ready to give up the fight yet. Glory or Valhalla.
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