Sometimes the pain is so bad,

I can’t sleep, knowing that I’m here.

Sometimes the pain makes me mad,

I can’t think, my thoughts are unclear.

Sometimes the pain makes me sad,

I can’t move, make sure the drugs are near.

Sometimes the pain is the worse I’ve had,

I can’t breathe, I’m petrified with fear.

Every time the pain comes from you dad,

I can’t live, how can you look in the mirror?

Categories: WritingTags: 3:33am, insomnia, poem, S.M.A.