Foreword: My sense of humours take on my mental and physical health.
I no longer wish to reside
Or hide in its hovel
The damp and darkened rooms
Where depression begs me grovel
You ever wanna say what?
What is that you've got?
Slipping into the shadows unseen
Is that what I think it is?
My lost possession aka the plot?
And whilst I have your attention
Yeah you, that's right look at me
On your way out shut the door
Don't give my regards to anxiety
I have these eyes for a reason
Even when I hate to see
A diagnosis in black and white
Of complex PTSD
What does it even mean?
After decades in the dark
Why choose me so long ago?
Reality back then more than enough..stark
And as you scuttle off
If by chance in passing
You happen to bump into all my other crap
Let them know I was laughing
Cos contrary to my own popular belief
On some days I feel less tragic
Been left out in the cold so long
I'm practically hypothermic
So if you happen to bump into
The migraines and shooting pain limbs
Tell them there's a place out back
With the rats amongst the bins.