A Visitor

She’s like an old friend,

only visiting while in the area

she taps



right now, gently on the front door

of my frontal lobe

She’s always sitting in the corner, crying, and feeling sad, dreading,

and feeling hopeless

She was given a second chance

but thinking this may be it

She tried to be positive but

it’s something that took her over

She started giving up

so she thought it would be best

to take a stroll in

below zero weather

I can feel her trying to make me shake,

as she walks around the cold

she feels frost bite

I sense the nerves that are tingling

all throughout my legs

while laying in corpse pose

slowly breathing,

I try to control her

She takes away my confidence

never really feeling love during her youth

she feels alone

without high self esteem

regards herself as a waste

and doesn’t see

her own worth

When I tell many, like my Italian teachers

or my boss, or my friends,

or my father, or myself

Nobody believe she’s real

but she exists.

She tries to strip me of everything

my blog

my writing

my ambition

my experiences

my friends

my happiness

but I keep fighting her

I keep trying to avoid her

She’s like that clingy stray cat that

loves you as you walk by it each day


just waiting

for you to take him home

Some days are better than others

as long as she isn’t softly




at my front door


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