Notes

It's the simple things that are hardest.

The complicated,

and the things that don't make any sense,

they come naturally. 

But the simple things,

the things that should come naturally to someone,

I have to write them down. 

It hurts having to write them down.

Waking up each morning to their big letters,

various sticky notes

and timed messages on my phone

to remind me of the things I should already know. 

I get frustrated,

I stare at those taunting words

until I burst into angry

and horrified tears

wondering nothing but

"why?".

Why can't I remember?

Why is this so hard?

Why can't things be simple?

Then I erase them. 

But those notes have been there so long

on that dastardly white board,

that they refuse to go.

They know I need them

but I refuse to be under their command,

I promise myself that I will remember,

but even that promise I will forget. 

I scream out

and bash my hands against the board,

ferociously scrubbing away at the words.

I scrub until my whole body is shaking. 

Until those words, one by one,

slowly disappear.

But they are never truly gone.

I can still see their faint outline against the board,

then I sit down.

I sit down, shaking 

and lips trembling

with face wet from tears.

I run my hands through my matted hair

and wonder.

How is it that I forget to get lunch?

Forget to get water,

forget that I have homework,

forget my phone number

Forget a conversation I had not but twenty minutes ago.

It wouldn't seem so scary

if I didn't collapse sometimes.

I collapse with a weak body when I realize

that I have forgotten to eat.

You see, without a reminder, sometimes,

sometimes I just forget.

I don't know when I'm hungry, so I just forget,

and end up not eating for days on end. 

Sometimes, 

the worst times,

I forget to breath. 

I stop breathing until I pass out,

or throw myself into a panic attack

terrified and frantically attempting to catch the air around me. 

Other times, I pretend I have an injured back.

I pretend because I'm holding back tears,

trying to pretend just for a little while,

that something isn't wrong with me.

That I don't wake up some mornings,

and forget how to move.

That I don't lay there, not even able to scream out

but sit there and sob

as I use every ounce of strength 

to push myself off the bed,

but my arms only lay limp by my side.

The Doctors run their tests,

I change my diet

I change my life

time and time again

but in the end

maybe I'm not sick,

maybe I'm not the girl the Doctors cannot cure,

maybe I'm crazy.

Reviews

[JordanLane]

I don't really have advice to give because this is sorrowfully brilliant I found myself gliding over your words effortlessly despite my initial thoughts after seeing the length this is a wonderful poem and please make a note to "keep writing"

[Fish]

Awh thank you so much! :3 ^.^