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The Sacred Disease

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  • The Sacred Disease

    My soul starts to stagger, sputter, and cough.
    Everything fades as it shuts itself off.
    Wherever I'm going, getting there fast.
    Could be another or might be my last.

    I barely hear "Someone please help my dad!"
    And can't help but feel a little bit sad,
    And stupid and angry and weak and mean
    That the boy has to see what he's just seen.

    Screaming and swinging when I first come to,
    But wouldn't you if it happened to you?
    Finally calm down and here comes the raw pain:
    Every muscle, every cell of my brain.

    A good chunk of my tongue's nowhere to be found,
    Probably left it out there on the ground.
    Finally remember my name and the year,
    Start cracking jokes but they still smell my fear.

    Hide in the bed while I try to get right,
    Curse every day and cry every night.
    Ease back into life, pick up my style,
    Hoping I have some peace for a while.

  • #2
    Welcome back!!!!