my everyday reminder

Death comes particularly fast for me

At age 12 they loom over

Nothing came so clear as the mental capacity

Of me, brain empty, maimed from disease

Every time I open my mouth

 

They crowd down and stuff my throat

My throat closes

Anxietydepressioncrawlingwrittenovermybody

So all that comes out is a vacuous laugh and fake smile

Well enough to blend in but not for those

Stimulating convies with others that I have only with

myself

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