I Hear You

My sweet friend. You don’t have to tell me. I can see it in your smile. Or lack of smile. I can see you are struggling. Drowning. The waves of mental illness push you down every time your feet graze the soft sand. The wave of emotion comes at you like a tsunami. You get …

My Brain is Sick

My brain is sick. Very sick. I hate to admit that. It’s not physical. You can’t hear me falling apart. You can’t see the lack of chemicals. There is no evidence of the life I live aside from the stories I tell and the art I create. There is no way to know I’m telling …