I am afraid:
That the pain won’t go away.
That I might be suicidal.
Of the thoughts that keep entering my mind.
That I will find out that it would have been fixable if they had gotten to it sooner.
There is nothing to be done.
There is something invasive to be done.
I will be a vegetable.
I am just tired.
I am weak.
That I burnt my hand and didn’t notice it.
That my pain tolerance is raising.
I am angry:
That I am weak.
That I feel like I have to fake it.
That I want to fake a smile.
That there I feel so hopeless.
I want to disappear.
I want it to go away.
That I feel like ending it.
Like it should go away.
That workers comp is fighting every turn.
That I thought of looking up the highest bridge over water in my area.
That someone would have to find my body.
I thought of ways to destroy my body completely, but I cannot.
The ocean and sometimes deep in the woods are the only places people never show up.
Two places I cannot make it alone.
I hate to have these thoughts.
All I want is:
for it all to go away.
to pain free.
to be functional again.
to move on.
to move out of my brothers
To be an adult.
I was human
Now I am nothing. I am a disgrace.
I am useless.