I cannot sleep
Once again.
I lie awake
Wishing I could see
The stars.
Instead I see
This room and
Its hideous orange walls.
The walls seem to move
Closing in around me.
I’m so accustomed
To these bouts of
Insomnia
That I no longer
Question
When I start
To laugh hysterically.
On the walls
My mom’s paintings
Seem to laugh back.
The sorrow I know
Is like no other.
It is too deep
Too raw
Too real.
And as I stand here
Within its everlasting clutches
I find little bursts of hope.
And these little burst of light
falling...
a good day
fun and silly
almost happy
then the whispers
falling...
I laugh and run
with gay abandon
chasing dreams
Author's (long) Note:
Why is it that when you have a disability, that's all people see?
Kids my age:
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