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About This Poem
The Tic
Just a twitch,
started years ago,
hidden,
controlled,
no one knows this burden still exists,
held deep in my soul,
only letting go when I'm alone.
The world thinks I'm crazy,
tries to dissect,
comprehend what it all means,
when the tic wants to show.
The looks,
the stares,
the worry,
so I let it all build up,
tighten my soul,
my neck,
till I just have to let it explode.
So, there are days
I just sit alone on my couch,
me and my twitch,
just letting it all out.
A tic,
controlled,
something I try to keep unknown.
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