16 of 30/ aesthetic / 44

The only constant in my life is the worry,

the sweet taste of self loathing mixed 

with apologies, I haven’t lived a day

for so long in which everything is

low tide calm, instead my

life is full of waves : depression, anxiety, loneliness,

they all come in droves till my metaphors

are mixed up and I see bees in the waves;

hallucinations act like a barrier you see, between

me and the casket of panic 

I’m usually buried in

everytime I do anything- I am half dead

now, lying here with a flower crown

made of sadness, I 

was told my illness was an aesthetic 

a while back, and

I guess I just never quite let go of that, so here

I am, heart stuck in my throat,

body shrinking into itself, still afraid

to change, because

pain has been my style 

for so, so long.


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