i wish i had magic in my fingertips.

a poem about the way mental illnesses can feel like roadblocks sometimes.

Photo by JOHN TOWNER on Unsplash

i tried thinking my way into a happier headspace

and then i remembered i am cognitively impaired.

my laundry list of brain-related ailments

does not comply with positive outlooks.

it doesn’t matter how many times i tell myself

to look on the bright side because every direction

i envision is a shade of ominous grey, and

my imagination only carries me so far.

i wish i had magic in my fingertips

the way those without mental illnesses seem to have,

but i cannot simply alter my way of thinking

when the organ that produces my thoughts

is the one that is sick in the first place.

☽