Sometimes, I imagine myself in the future.
Going to prom, graduating, moving out, raising my own kid.
But as much as I try to convince myself,
I know I'll never be the same as almost everyone else.
There will always be more waves in my mind,
The rabbit hole just a foot away.
I can never go back to normal,
If I ever even was that way.
They say it'll get better,
And hey, maybe it will
But I'll never be able to reach that normal
That everyone else seems to.
Because inside it's still a mess
And a mess it will stay
If you weren't so focused on fixing me,
Maybe you'd realize it's meant to be that way.
translation:
Even when I'm able to leave behind depression and other more temporary things, if I ever will, I know I'll never have the high school musical life. I want to, because everyone around me paints it into such a pretty picture. The world is in desperate need of a more supportive environment for neurodivergents (among many other things). But beyond that, we need to learn to accept other people--as well as ourselves--for who they are without expecting them to change or be "fixed".
YOU ARE READING
Pretty Things Are Toxic
Poetryexcept you. yes, you, reader. you're pretty, and you're amazing. a scrapbook of all the things that hurt. the things that break and take, the prettiest ones, and the most toxic. get ready for poems, lyrics, letters, and tears.
