My legs twitch like they want to go somewhere
My mind races like it's already there
I say to those who feel obliged to care
I can't sleepMy hands reach, fiddle, and test something frightening
I tell them to stop, but watch, stomach tightening
I don't know if this statement is enlightening
I can't sleepI'm given pills; three there, four here, two now
I'm told when to wake, stand up, share, now bow
Despite this, I ask for more, yet somehow
I can't sleep
ESTÀS LLEGINT
12 Days in the Psych Ward
PoesiaThis is a poetry/journal book about my experience in the Psych Ward. It's all true accounts with names changed for privacy. I wrote this while in the ward, except for the last day. Please take care in reading. If topics of suicide, depression, rap...