I am not
Going mad
Even when holding my
Numb head in my
Wilting hands
Wondering how everyone else
Seems to understand
I am not
Going mad
Even when whimpering
From the strain of pain
Curled up again
On the floor, tears endured
I promise you I am
Not
Going mad
I am doing what I must
To get through
It doesn’t feel like I
Am getting through
Yet I
Am
I am getting up
Just to feed the cat
Take my meds while I do that
Might as well brush the hair
I can feel like
There’s no reason to care
Without inflicting it on my head
Sometimes I feel
Like I am losing it
Living life, abusing it
I almost feel like
My place in the world
Would have been better
Given to someone who does not
Feel like she’s going insane
But I am not
And my place in this world
Won’t be replaced
By someone else
Because there needs to be a me
To write my poetry
My head is
Aching
Heart barely stitched back up
From all the breaking
Hands still shaking
But I don’t
Sit around waiting
To get better
I am not
Going mad
I am not sure I
Will ever understand
But even when
I am caressing the aching forehead
In my wilting hands
I have not gone mad
This is all
I have
And I will not
Spend my time
Being mad
01:11am - 02/10/26 - my bed.