Headaches. Poem by John Richey

Where no one can hear, yet you hear so clearly…
To have it attacked, it’s nearly devastating.
The negative words, the disapproving whispers,
When banded together, in a ruthless mob,
Where it cracks and breaks every thought of concentration.

Breaking you down into a miserable heap, with no means to stand again…
The instinct to survive, to resurface and break through…
No longer strives, and I can’t stand no longer.

In a state of disrepair and no love for myself,
Where the end to the trauma is what I wanted so dearly.
It never comes, even though my need shows so plainly…

Every day, it ambushes me; breaks me apart from the world.
The attack is so simple, but so painstakingly horrible.
It never leaves me, and it drives me insane…
So absurd and morbid, I wonder why I deserve this treatment,
Where the neglect is only coming from me, where I’m personally ending myself…