warning: depression
to you,
i understand those nights
you sneak into the bathroom,
to hide when everything becomes
murky and dark,
when the rope becomes appealing
to your neck, or the razor to your skin
i understand the growing heaviness
of being alone,
the deaf ears your
hurting words
fall upon on
i understand
because i had been you before.
to mornings you open your eyes to,
i am thankful. thank you,
for exerting the last of your strength
to get up and brush your teeth
thank you, for walking the
grey narrow halls of your school,
for staying so brave and strong
even when your walls have begun to crumble
thank you for breathing, for feeling, for being alive even when it's the last thing you wish for.
you are so amazing, and beautiful, and undeserving of this sickness.
you are not nothing. you are not no one. you matter, you matter, you matter, and you are more than just a speck in this unforgiving world, this dark expanding universe, more than an ant reaching out to the sun.
you are enough.
and if a man or a woman tells you otherwise, if God turns the other cheek, if these strangers step on you with their unfamiliar feet, i will be there to catch you. i will always be there to catch you.
you no longer have to fear trust, no longer have to put a negative notion to friend, never need to keep silent when you hear the word help.
i will be here. we will all be here to push you.
sincerely,
me
YOU ARE READING
Miscontrued Sentences
PoetryNo one can understand yourself better than you. But we can all relate to the feelings that are often miscontrued by media, language, and everything in between. This is my ode to poetry, to the sad, the lonely, to everyone, and to myself.
