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Stomach Bug
It started off as a minor thing
Something that would only be taken care of
When it needed to be let out
It would build up inside, for minutes, hours, days even
Up to the point of struggle, where there was nothing left to do
But let it out
-
And it only gets worse every time you do
-
And no I'm not talking about no butterflies,
no knots tied with bunny ears,
and definitely not something to do with sourness
—
Doctors couldn't tell me what I had either.
They tested me, assaulted me with questions
Asked me: "Did you eat today?"
A question always lied to most of the time
—
I'd raise my voice, a little louder than normal
just to hopefully get the attention of one person
so they could hear the struggle in my tone
and see that something was wrong.
—
Everyday was a pass from class
From anywhere from 5 minutes to 50,
Always In private because to be in public
with the pain and tears showing to people I knew would make it worse
—
I built a tolerance
-
to every tablet, to every capsule,
to every single goddamn over-the-counter medication I could get my hands on,
that wouldn't even work,
because to take a sip of poison everyday to build immunity to that poison will only lead to more pain when you need that poison to end it all.
—
The restless days, not going to bed until 3 o'clock in the morning
Just to wake up two hours later,
missing school because it felt like I was being stabbed in the torso
and nothing wanted to work in order to get out of the couch I call a bed.
—
I wouldn't even get a break
because my parents doubted that I was only faking the pain only to get out of one day of the prison I call a school,
Expected to hold my wrists out only to be locked back up in the morning,
and be fed food that looks nutritious, while really, it was meant to go down slowly.
—
Until I let it out, through long exhales,
and a tapping of a foot.
Until it's all out,
And I can relax for a bit.
—
And by now you probably still think I'm talking about an issue about an upset stomach,
while in reality I'm not
Because the next time you hear my poem
It won't be called: "Stomach Bug"
It'll be titled: "Mental Illness"
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I started writing this poem while having a stomach ache. And After a while I started going back to the start having the idea that I can change it to slowly relate more to being mentally challenged. And not hiding the fact at the end.
There is also a call to Mithridatism, the practice of taking small doses of poison to build immunity to it.