I don’t cry.
(Shut up! I’ll give you something to cry about.)
I have COPD, I have since before they named it that, I suppress coughing to clear my lungs.
(Stop that coughing, it it sounds terrible.)
I don’t talk about my real feelings.
I hate being touched.
(The old man likes her, send her over there & let him watch her. “But I don’t like him! He…” Shut up & just go.)
I have terrible relationship with food.
(Don’t eat that, you’re a fat pig already.)
I will put myself in dangerous situations.
(Don’t hit her, she’s little! Hit me!)
All the cracks are widening.
So much I just don’t care about.
Suicide not an option,
at least the fast way.
(I still smoke, I only have 70% lung function.)
I have things that are wrong & ignore.
Sometimes I’m surprised I’ve awoken to a new day.
(Was once told I’m committing prolonged suicide)
I just can’t find the energy to care much about myself.
(So much easier to care about others.)
I’m just tired & I really don’t care.
(I’m so sorry.)