Ticcing My Way Through Life Poem by Always Anxious

Walking home is a chore because every time I let my mind drift from anything but walking my arms start to flail and my people would start staring at me. So I start to attempting to suppress them but I always forgot that suppressing them only makes them worse. And yet I close my eyes trying to suppress the need again. Yet, my body just starts moving, moving towards its target. I hit it fast and now I could still feel my nose bleeding and I was in so much pain. One day me and him and the car and I just couldn't help but tic. Because it was more socially acceptable to be a smoker than it was to be disabled. I just started to smoke. I'll leave you with one thought, yes you stare at me when I am disabled but no you don't stare at me when I am addicted.