From my book Trauma: Songs and poems of failed life pg 52

I hear music,
It saddens.

I feel love,
It frightens.

I see light,
It burns.

I touch fur,
I feel death.

—

I feel happy,
It’s fake.

I laugh,
It’s fake.

—

When I see children playing,
I only feel pain.

When I see families hugging,
I only feel envy.

—

When I touch art,
I see only struggle.

When I see accomplishments,
I see only wasted time.

—

I filter out any good thoughts,
I only see black and white.

No in-between.