I’m Sick
I’m sick, but you won’t notice it,
I’m sick, but my drugs make me look fine during the day,
I’m sick, and my head is pounding,
I’m sick, but they don’t know what’s wrong,
I’m sick and tired of missing out
of not being able to stay awake
of not driving myself
of being sensitive and careful
of being reliant on others.
I wish I could explain
how simultaneously fortunate and unfortunate I am.
But it’s hard, too hard, to know that I will live but with scars.














