Poems about Health

I googled mapped the search for my father using these birthmarks embroidered on my skin as coordinates
Forever alone, Like an ancient tree, Lost and old. Hidden in the shadows, Fear of Society,
    autism is a spectrum disorder not a curable disease
“It’s a choice to be happy,”
“It’s a choice to be happy,”
A neon light was flashing at me Inviting me to come in It was vibrant but vulgar too
You thought you could drown me You though you could kill me You thought I would leave you alone
The clouds keep taunting, Filling his head with irrational calls,
On Christmas Day I wrote a poem that fell several stories and Landed on its back   No one could help it,
She was the canvas, the blade the brush, the blood the paint that gives her a rush. A rush of releif 

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