Stigma

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
What is it to you if my wounds are stitches on flesh, or storms in my head?

Submitted: October 21, 2016

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Submitted: October 21, 2016

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I'll no longer pretend

That it'll all come to an end.

I'll no longer say

That everything will be okay.

 

"You're exaggerating, it's just a phase."

They tell me, with a nonchalant gaze.

Why won't they believe me?

Something inside me, not of flesh, is bleeding.

 

And now I'm overexposed.

My torment is blossoming like a rose.

With this sign on my head, mentally ill

It feels like people see through my clothes.

 

It's a stigma.

It's not right.

I'm a fool, gone insane.

Please, save me from my plight.

 

Save me from this hell.

 

 


© Copyright 2017 Pink Sky. All rights reserved.

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