The noise drowns out coherent thoughts in the brain
Noise I cause, noise that gives me pause, in feeling pain
If I make the mix of random directions go parallel
How much of me would still exist? Would what makes me who I am be in peril?
Focus, at a cost of what could be lost
By giving in each time thinking is too hard
To have relief from anxiety by taking a medicine that is proprietary
Allows me to live without fear of losing control
In public or at home where happiness is the only cop on patrol
Has it made me better by pushing panic to the curb?
It has, and I no longer feel weak but still I’m perturbed
To admit I have panic attacks and anxiety for no good reason
Labels me as lesser or defective; silent judgment abounds; ignorance is open season
I no longer feel shame for being dealt this affliction
To take the silent whispers and turn them into open diction
Empowers myself and others to endure the stigma of imperfect mental health
Is the noise all gone? Am I still myself?
The noise is turned down, one of my weaknesses diminished
I am Mike Efin Brown and my silence is finished