My mind is an unruly place to be, Many things try to come back and haunt me, It tends to cause many anxieties. Sometimes I wish for peace, For the many different voices to cease, But these things have caused incurable creases, I lay in bed and question why love ever found me, I question whether it is to be or not to be, Even if I know it's for eternity, I hate how my traumas affect everyday life, I wish I could cut it out with a knife, But I know that cuts and wounds are not a way to hide or fight, In that case- pain isn't weakness leaving the body, It's giving into feelings and anger, Sadness and depression, This poem's structure falls apart like the thoughts in my brain, They run ramped without a care for me Things come and go and some stay for forever.