I wish I had a healing factor so that I could read. I went from depressed to the point of tardive, to the craving of women’s mead. The source I once thought I’d desperately need. I thought I had to guzzle. I thought the nectar would heal. I don’t really know how she would feel.
I’m schizophrenic. This illness has conquered. However must I share or tell? This illness ripped me, this illness tore me; however must I feel right now?
I wish I had a healing factor so that I could read again. Something to mend the severed neurons, the dendrites to the end. I want to read again without struggle, to write absurdism again, to laugh silently again. I WANT TO DO MATH AGAIN!
-
Author:
never be (
Offline) - Published: May 27th, 2026 20:08
- Comment from author about the poem: A lazy flow of thought
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 4
Offline)
Comments1
Such a poetic confession stitched with desire and an appeal for a healing elixir. Very nicely written
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.