Playgrounds are an innocent place. Built for childhood fun and exploration. Where one could touch the sky using the swings. Escaping gravity and embracing imagination. Wondering if one could take flight entirely. Why then was I often bothered by the playground? *** It was not because of my disability. No, it only happened under certain…

I know how I felt that day. Even if I buried it along time ago. An era of sharp needles pointed directly at my soft spot. Long blunted by time and covered by an obscuring blanket. Until I can no longer remember the details. Hopefully lost forever. *** Part of me still feels it still.…

You are my twin star. Born of the same flame. Developing under similar conditions. Mirroring flaw and talent alike. Traveling throughout the universe in time. A bond not just anyone can replace. *** We might shoot off in different directions entirely. Or am I seeing it all in reverse? But the moment we need someone…

Sometimes I wonder what my gifts are. They could be what make me feel good. But that seems to come and go. A one two tempo that ability never seems to match. Whimsical and obeying its own rules. A song experimental in nature. *** The gifts could be what makes other people feel good. Creating…

Sometimes the struggles seem never ending. They crash against me one after the other after the other. Causing damage all around me. Until I am afraid that I might break as well. Snapped in half from the weight of it all. Doomed from the start. *** As cruel as time is towards me though, it…

I hope you are proud of yourself. You that leeches from the poor. Seeing an easy target and moving in for the kill. Giving only to take away along with a little extra. Who cares if that extra goes to you or the abyss. The only thing that matters is it existed in the first…

Be gentle with yourself. Not just because it is what you deserve but because it is what you need. A breath. A rest. An eventual inhale in between the screaming. Encouraging to reevaluate the situation. *** Healing does not happen under pressure. That is how pressure sores are formed. Oozing, blistering, open wounds that only…

Sometimes I dream of an endless night. Catastrophic. Immutable. The end of the world as we know. As I know. Sun and gentle warmth forever smothered under black. The edge of all reality to my mind and sanity. But even then, all is not lost. Of course everything is ended but a new system emerges.…

Scenic vistas painted on a hospital walls. Cartoon, realistic, or modern, it does not matter. They always look the same to me. Meant to distract the eye and calm. No lasting substance beyond what you might find on your own on google images. Bland enough to make your mind as sick as the body in…