Ⓟⓞⓔⓣⓡⓨ | a collection by Fay ©

Who I Am

"𝘏𝘦𝘺 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘨𝘭𝘦, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳?"

Life is sickening.

I bury my hands in my sweater, gripping the plastic of the chair I'm sitting on, just to remind myself that I'm still there.

"You're fine." I tell myself.

Life can't always be fair.

But if I knew what I'd get myself into when I won the lucky grab in the lottery of life, I'd rather have grabbed a blank, to suffer.

Yes, I know, I should thank

The Lord that I'm alive.

But if I knew the daily struggle of just trying to survive,

I'd rather sit in heaven, without knowing what life had to offer.

"𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘯𝘰 𝘨𝘭𝘶𝘦, 𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘹, 𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭"

𝗗𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻: 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘮 ?

I try my best to fit into a shape I wasn't born for.

They have ridges, I have nails,

And only one of us can succeed,

success means one always fails.

Trying to hug a balloon only has one outcome for me,

Not more.

I don't know when the treaty jar with sweets on the kitchen counter

Got replaced by pill bottles sitting on my bed side table like an all-rounder.

Suddenly, I have a diagnosis

Although not far from Chronic Psychosis,

I still don't know why they keep doubling the dosis.

"Am I dying, doctor, am I dead?"

"No, you're just barely getting with life, hanging on by a thread."

"𝘏𝘦𝘺 𝘚𝘪𝘳𝘪, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵?"

I am left staring at the results of my midterm exam. They miscalculated this piece by 2 points, it doesn't make much of a radiating difference in the blunt fact that

Four others I know have 80 points, mine has 74.

They will always be better, more more more