“I can’t go on. I will go on.”

i’m crying again

the shards of nonspecific
despair stabbing my heart
staring at the ceiling
i am still a mess

i think now
the wounds never really heal
they grow and change
splitting into smaller wounds
gashes that never close
some wounds may fade
the scars never do

it’s sunrise and
the sedative has run out
wish i could be sedated forever
lying in a sea of fog
i need to move but
i can’t move!
i need to get up but
no! make me!
bargaining, pleading, saying
i already let myself go yesterday
today must be different

so i
make myself sit up
my head screams
make myself place my feet on the floor
make myself select the clothes i’ll wear
make myself walk to the bathroom
make myself clean my body
rinse my shattered pieces
little by little i look like
a normal person again
put on my robot suit 
i am ready to go

broken and disabled in 
a never-ending fight
it takes more than 
all my strength
just to exist in 
this world you’ve built
all for wealth and profit
and glossy magazines

i’m not angry
i’m just tired

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