So many questions..
So.. so many questions..
How may I precisely heed?
To succeed, at surviving through the day,
Medication..
Medication..
As I write,
Out of fear of an unforeseeable slow painful death the next day,
If I mess something up,
I wonder if my punishment will be 1,000 times more unnecessarily messed up..?
Loud noises are blocking out my linear attention,
Attention!
Attention!
Labeled struggles with attention, makes me fear that I’ll get punished by those who have greater attention,
Since my labeled low confidence in “typical” attention,
Makes it feel like I’ll inevitably screw up,
Then get beat up,
Or worse..
Or worse..
Who knows?
Who knows what’s occurring in other skulls?
Who knows what details they’ll seek from me?
Who knows their beliefs of holding me to accountability..?
So many needed questions at me,
I wish I could answer,
Precisely,
I guess it’s.. More painful uncertainty..
?
If any day could be my last,
Festivities would be a blast,
To me,
many seem to imply that it won’t,
But my ego still wishes,
The fun,
Freedom from all fear,
All pain,
Would forever last
Zach Dana Writing 