www.whyville.net Aug 12, 2012 Weekly Issue



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Whyville Poet

Deterioration

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My thoughts,
They eat me alive.
They tie my stomach into knots,
Leaving me fighting to survive.
They attack me at night,
Where I have all the time in the world to think.
As I try to fall asleep, they bring so much fright;
And by the end of the night, I'm too scared to even blink.
They damage my ego, turning me against myself,
Blaming myself for what I am, what I've become.
My brain on the warpath with itself,
I'm falling to shock, my body falling numb.
"I'm ugly, I'm stupid, I'm alone for a reason,"
My brain knows just how to attack me.
My own thoughts committing treason,
In my own mind, I am not free.
"That boy you loved, he never wanted you,"
The tears at my heart just get worse.
Just trying to make it through,
The night drags on, dragging me in reverse.
My mind wants it's revenge on me,
But I have committed no crime.
"You'll never amount to anything, you see,"
The insults worsening over time.
"Don't you get it? You have no talent!"
The night eating away at my sanity.
My head is making this a bad habit,
Driving me into insanity.
By now, it's five in the morning,
The sun is rising to another day.
"You're pathetic, no one cares about you, this is your warning!"
This is my brain's friendly way of saying "hey."
Sleep avoiding me once again,
I walk downstairs and look at myself in the mirror.
The bags under my eyes, they reflect my pain.
My struggle, becoming clearer and clearer.
My face is paler than ever before,
Our house becoming cheery and bright.
My mom notices my darkened eyes, but decides to ignore . . .
Could it be? Maybe my brain is right . . .
I go through the daily routines, showing little to no emotion,
And no one ever seems to notice, or to care.
Now more than ever, I get a notion;
That maybe my brain knows of things that I am unaware.
"You're not pretty, you're alone because of that,"
Is that why that boy didn't like me back?
My heart and stomach both fall flat,
As they realize, my thoughts are on the right track.

 

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