My choice of expression is my medication

I drew the clouds I was under to make silver linings

To let myself know that there is enough lead in the tip

To kill the pain

The war in my pen is just because it kills the oppression I face

I color the sun yellow to remind myself

Looking on the bright side won’t blind me

The inkblots tell me that I am not a psychopath

The evidence is the emotion I expressed on paper

And on paper, I look a mess

I break crayons in half while trying to color

All those times people had snapped at me

Then to distract myself I read the names off of crayons

And I start seeing that colors with the same last name

Don’t always share the same tone of expression

Expressing how it feels to wake up everyday

And wondering whether

My heart is beating on me or is it trying to keep what’s left of me alive

I don’t know much about anatomy

But I know that my organs call my body home

And the organ that beats holds the weight of its dysfunction

My brain thinks that privilege is being able to dream a better life with eyes closed

Whilst sleeping in a warm bed, ignoring the nightmares others see

With their eyes open

Though sometimes my thoughts keep me up at night

Funny cause that got me feeling down lately

So I draw clouds just to create a silver lining

The rain helps me fall asleep

My choice of expression is my medication