To whoever reads this letter,

9 4 5
                                    

I've been holding in a lot of pain.
That's the way my minds been trained.

I tried to tell you what's been going on,
But when I try, it's like my voice is gone.

I haven't told you about the dreams I've been having.
Or about the pain inside wreaking havoc.

I haven't told you about the flashbacks that I've been seeing.
Or the loud voices I was hearing.

You don't know about my lack of interests.
Or my new found difference.

You don't see the tears that stain my cheeks,
When you and everyone else are asleep.

You aren't here for my panic attacks.
The ones I get with each flashback.

You don't hold me when I get lonely.
Or when I hear everything that they called me.

You don't feel the way I do when it is mentioned.
Or when someone says I'm only doing this for the attention.

You don't hear the voices that were in my head.
The ones telling me I won't be missed when I am dead.

You don't know who this person is
Or where the depression ends and I begin.

You do not know the mask I wear.
I can't shake the possibility that you won't care.

You don't know me as well as you thought you did.
I've changed a lot since I was a little kid.

I don't show you because it would be pointless.
Im terrified you'd just see me as your biggest disappointment.

I can't sleep, because the nightmares get bad.
I really don't think you'd understand.

It's not something I can explain clearly.
Yet, I feel it inside of me so fiercely.

I try to hold myself back from breaking.
I cover my mouth, but my hands are shaking.

I go to write it out, but my hands won't stay still.
How can I write it out when I don't know how I feel?

The memories play in my mind on a loop.
Sometimes it makes my mind feel like goo. 

Sometimes I want to lay in my bed and never get out. 
But I can't exactly say that out loud.

So I settle on keeping it inside my head.
And only letting it out when everyone's in bed.

No one knows my actual truth.
Only what I've allowed you to.

So to whoever reads this letter,
Does knowing a bit of the truth make you feel better?

To know I'm not fine like I've told you countless times before?
Or knowing that there's still more?

I won't lie and tell you that's all.
I only broke down my first wall.

There's plenty more from where that came.
But I don't think you can handle my pain.

There's a reason I've been holding all this back.
Because im terrified you'll say, "You have everything, what do you lack?"

My depression has nothing to do with things.
But rather a person who thinks they rule everything.

I will never be able to show all of my pain.
There's just too much for me to explain.

So to whoever reads this letter,
Im sorry I couldn't explain it any better. 

****************************************

Soooooo, I think this is by far my best poem that I have ever written. The flow... is just.... I love it. 

Let me know what you guys think! 

Please don't forget to vote! 

Thank you guys so much for reading. 

Until next time. 

~Caitlin

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