My Sickness is My Muse

My sickness is my muse

Stemming from all the violence and abuse

I used to feel…real.

I used to feel something, used to feel alive.

Why even try to be sane?

I’m tired of playing this fucking game!

Tired of feeling numb and frustrated.

This life I live, I hate it.

Too much anger, rage, and violence,

Muted, I fall into silence.

I draw my inspiration from the fact that I am sick.

Life or Death, which one should I pick?

Sometimes I feel like the walking dead,

Shut up the noise inside my head!

It’s enough to drive a person crazy…

And I just may be.

Heather L. Johnson

October 2002