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Little Release

Epilepsy

By Vicky WilcoxPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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How many times have I wanted to end my own life, how many times have I fought with myself on what's wrong vs right, how many times have I looked on and despite the strife, so long trying to live for others lives.

Put here for a reason to help those in need, even though with bare essentials, my own self trying to succeed, not knowing if what I'm doing is getting over grief, or doing a good deed, even when I'm the one in need.

Selfless or selfish, consider it what you will, But no one gives me more shame than the power of my shrill voice as it tells so much in a day, just trying to keep up while pushing them away.

So then when night falls, and a new days on the horizon, I put up my walls and keep them all smiling,

For what's a life to live, if you live it alone? Forever lost when his heart is home.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Vicky Wilcox

I don't define myself as an epileptic, only the doctors do. I admit I wake up sometimes not remembering what happened.. But still my seizures don't define me, they help me accept myself as I am everyday. I'm Vicky, and I like to write.

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