Description: Poem about the inner workings of someone who combats mental illness. The moments in which the world is loud and the visuals are dull . The poem aims to be a mouth piece for those that get stuck in their head too.

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See this pain is all-consuming it’s like fire in my lungs

It’s like fighting with a pencil while the rest of them have guns

Their aim is true

It’s piercing though

And I’m growing so damn tired

With shades of blue

Mind-set askew

And I’m feeling uninspired

This pain is like a bomb for which I have no expertise

For when It ticks and detonates it spreads pain like disease

Tried to diffuse all the explosions but there are some that I have missed

These ones I loathe, I’m watched with those.. I don’t want to exist.

If I could go without inflicting the same pain that I feel,

This wish is not realistic it’s fantasy/ not real

So I’ll push on through as much as I just want to lay down

Fix my head and heal my heart- be more pleasant when around.

I’m trying; really trying if only they could see

I just want out, away from it all. I just want to be free.

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