My Sickness (IT)
This thing, it bothers me
shakes my entire being
it is neverending
poison
I have absolutely no idea how to deal with it
it breathes inside of me
tears away all rational thought
It makes living hard
surviving, is what a friend of mine had said
the only thing standing between me and happiness
is how I can survive
But IT is there
no, not the mythological demon
-like creature named Pennywise,
IT
My sickness
IT stands there and tells me its okay to slack off
I look at my college homework and can not focus
I occupy my mind with other things
distractions, meaningless garbage
expectations are squashed, parents disappointed
even now it troubles me
this writer's block esque bullshit,
it messes with everything
My mind is cloudy at best,
struggling, trying to find something to help me go
I have aspirations, always been told I was smart
Thirty-one on the ACT,
for what? Even more suffering at the claws of IT?
I can't think, I can't commit, I can't breathe sometimes
I'm literally just staring at the keyboard at this point,
Why am I doing this? I could be doing something productive,
but I am here, talking out the side of my fucking head
to people who do not care,
this seems to be my only outlet
my only way of reaching out
I can't afford a psychiatrist,
a doctor,
a diagnosis,
a PILL.
To fix this,
To knumb me,
Pacify IT.