Everyone tells me how well I am doing
Bravo, well done, you're one of our best patients.
Taking her feed
sitting in bed
clearly she's fine
level in the head.
I wish I could communicate
the storm deep inside
that is raging and warring and causing so much riptide.
That is tearing me apart
and shouting me down
the guilt erupting from every inch of my body and brain
and you look at me and
say well done
and I attempt to refrain
from shouting, screaming at the top of my lungs
this is painful and it hurts.
And I want it to stop.
I am not okay,
I'm not going well,
I am trapped in a hell, condemned.
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