Dysphoria

poetry by Sage Hardiman

Dice were rolled and I did not land a seven.
Yesterday I was told I will never go to heaven;
Someone laughed in my face and called me Kevin.
Phony, fake, snowflake.
Here I lay sobbing because I cannot make
Obliviousness see that I am no mistake.
Radical crazy.
I just want a break from the tourture making me glazy,
A sign of respect is all I want, not even a daisy.

He tears a hole in the knoll of my soul
Heats it with coal
Eager to show the mirror that I’m unwhole and unable to take control.

Here I am asking the universe for mercy
Everyone ignores my anguish except Circe.