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Poem
A drag of another cigarette the nicotine courses through my veins, 
It's not dope but it'll have to do, it's true the effects are not the same, 
It distinctively lacks the same power, same danger, the elation of the adrenaline and euphoria, 
Instead, I'm left to exhale smoke filled self-pity, 
Envy causing my mute mind internal screens of mental hysteria, 
I think it's safe to say I'm broken, also they all say, How do they know if the morphine helps me see clearly or block my capability, 
I'm left to be judged by a broken society, 
I'm not a murderer a sexual predator a Satan preacher, 
Yet do they still classify me as a similar creature, Socially unaccepted in propriety, really! 
Because I think and feel differently, 
Because I'm over emotive with excessive empathy, For everybody regardless of their demographic on this planet of insanity, 
According to well-educated people around me, I'm not in touch with reality, 
Could it be because I occasionally put my cigarette out in my wine glass, instead of the ashtray, 
More likely, because I feel pain so deeply, because words bruise me easily. 
Every mark scarring my soul every remark emotionally damaging me, 
Another pill another drink to normalise me, 
An alcoholic you think, or maybe just a girl with a messed-up mind,
Who's simply given up on life this time, 
She's been battered and bruised, continuously abused, 
Preyed upon by monstrous men each bruise a fingerprint imprinted on my mind, 
Until nothing but pain is fused, Hidden behind personas of heroes, in my Romeo and Juliet fantasies,
Sweeping in to save this damsel in distress from her own warped insanities, 
It doesn't take long before his face contorts into Satan's son, 
The beautiful love story ends before it's barely begun, Another motivational quote, you must find the will to live on, 
But what if I've decided I'm done! 
We preach about the freedom of speech that our father's father's fought for and won, 
Yet I feel more silenced than I have ever done, 
Scared to speak because no one wants to listen to the crazy woman, 
So, I don't speak I scream in hope someone hears my cries, 
Do your ears not bleed from my pleas, 
Are you all so blind, to my suicidal tries, the urges to end my life, 
Surely that would mean success for both sets, 
The crazy woman who you detest would be silenced in her delicious death, 
Until she finds the strength to rise up and speak again, 
Maybe you're finally listen then, 
In the time being I'll take another toxic drag on this fa'g and think about it all over again.
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