Roll Call

I have become sick and tired of raising my hand and saying,

“Here,” in life’s roll call

Because lately I’ve been skipping days

And I don’t really know how to stay here

And cannot function like the robots that share

The same grey foot paths I do

I know I’ve always been wired differently

And maybe I was born without a few screws

Sometimes I desperately wish I believed in a God

Or some higher spiritual power that will save me

But I believe in science

And everyone tells me I feel this way because

I have a chemical imbalance

But the drugs don’t work

And I feel so guilty about wanting to end my life

Because I havn’t been molested or homeless

Or lost family members

Or any tragic shit like that

I’ve grown up in a loving home surrounded by devoted friends and family

And I’ve always had a fortunate and easy life

But it’s an entirely different story internally

Because I feel like I was born with

A flimsy heart

A diseased mind

and eyes wide open

That see everything and never seem to shut


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