Depresshan

As a narmal school chile

Age only fourteen ano

And meh need therapy sessions?

You mean fah tell meh

This ah why I got excited?

You mean this is how I ought to feel

Me affi deal with these kinda trauma’s

When will ma life get better?

I lang to be like my friends everyday

With the late brands , being trensettas

But when is not by them is by mi parents I getting bullay

Yes these are the words they quoted

After years of their lives being devoted

To it getting better as they grow

Yet there unhealed wounds are slowly but surely starting to show

Their words would hit me like a whip

And I’m in aggravating pain

The hands on my body after the abuse stuck on me

Like a juicy fruit stain

My mind is very uneasy

The arms of anxiety decided to squeeze the very peace out of me

I can’t take this anymore!

Pass me the knife!

Said by a teenage girl or boy

Who has only experienced the nature of existing to be a strife

How do I even explain?

That there are knives of self-hate

Hitting my brain

That their words hate brushes and that suicidal feeling it had paint!

I’ve lost my very best friend

And I was left to fend

With a broken heart

I’m so emotionally unstable where do I even start

“Are you okay?”

‘Yes!” I screamed “leave me alone!”

I didn’t mean to hurt you

But I am also in a different time zone

One of which I’m left all alone

With so many to turn to yet none

The weights of the world

Has my life spun

With pressure

With tears flowing down my cheeks

Unmeasured

But oop let me not forget to smile on the streets

you see depression has thought me

There is really more to life of one than the eyes can see

if I didn’t know better I’d say one would truly need a microscope

to see how dangerous ways us as teens tend to cope

Drugs and alcohol

I’m quite what one would call the school pope

For I preach about a good life

While behind the close curtains its quite certain, you’d see me with dope

Truly it’s weird to have the ability to speak

yet cant

having the ability to eat

yet the words of irrational words tend to chant

are you even worthy

your body very much not sturdy

you are ugly have you heard me?

And I’d believe

For the words spewed at me from either in or out side

Would weave

It self around me .and a lake of depression drowns me

I wish I could just tell it all to my friends

But their reaction to me might just depend

On what I say

I can’t afford to be another ounce of lonely, yet I pull away

On the battle field of my mind every day

And night

And you better believe with their swords of hurtful words

I’d hopelessly lose each fight

But most importantly

I am in school

And I am one of those peers expected to follow the rules

Not only that of my teachers, but of my parents

If only to them I could vent

I must bring home good grades

To their will I am bent

And I must deem to be their charade

That’s why I stick closer to the drugs

Because it made stuffing of my feelings under my rug

Of insecurities better

Eased my mind in the moment of my numerous suicides letters

Then there is me, the opposite teen

With who can’t fulfill these wishes and their dreams

And my anger, I’d scream at them

And drink my alcohol

Forever acquainted with the cat calls

Of men

For a living I must fend

But behind closed doors I’d cry

Because I was frustrated in living this lie

No longer seeing in myself worth

Because for sure my fellow mates dragged my name in the dirt

When all I truly am trying to do is where a different brand of shoe

The one that gives me the write to name of education

So I made my body their dedication

Poverty, my only slave that’s Caucasian

The teacher stares at them

Mere teens or children

And judge them and call them out publicly to judge them

Which the world did already very well

We‘re just really trying to outlive this spell

But not all of us made it

As anticipated

We lost our loved ones to suicide

All because we had no one to confide

After being thought as the older one you just might provide

Us with comfort

And with an expounding love

But in the end your opinions on how great my life ought to be you have shoved to us

Our mental health is now deteriorated

Just like dust