By Christian Medina
I go out in public and anxiety kicks in
What if my tics act so defiantly again?
I didn’t ask for this urge to pulse in my veins
There’s no cure for this and I have nothing to gain
Don’t make it obvious, don’t make it appear
Let it be subtle, and constantly live in this fear
Don’t quench the urge and no one’ll look at you weird
But this is Tourette’s, have I not made that clear?
It’s a constant itch inside my mind
People look at me like I’m not part of their kind
In public, I can’t be who myself, I can’t unwind
Maybe you could help because there’s a cure out there to find.
Art by Christian Medina
"It shows how a person feels inside. Shattered and broken, though the world might never seem to care."
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