Real
‘It’s not real,’ they cry,
ignoring how my insides fold
in and on themselves.
‘Get over it,’ they demand
while ignoring the way
my mind decays.
‘Just smile,’ they say
but I will not grant them laughter
that tears my heart in two
with every beat.
‘It’s not real,’ you say,
no bone pierces flesh
to be perfectly cast and remade.
There are only pills
and prongs
and prying eyes.
