Never Stay Dead

Whenever I get amused,

I try to laugh,

but my muscles are stiff,

like my lower brain doesn't know where they are anymore.

And when I try to force a smile,

it comes out more like a cry.

I met with my psychiatrist today, she said my face changed. 

It looked so much sadder, she said, but it's only been two weeks since our last meeting. 

Well yeah, I'm grieving the death of my last self.

And how we're forced to grow to be able to survive, and how much pain that accompanies.