You see faces, hear warm words falling out like stones from your mother's,
Aunt's or Grandma's mouth. Despite this, you feel empty.
They love. What exactly?
The picture you paint on your face everyday.
A smile that disappears like the moon, when nobody is watching,
To come back again and tear The darkness in half as a robe.
The glance escaping with a little bit of air.
Hands wet with sweat, because it is so hard to pretend. Who?
Mother. Now, you are her mirror image.
Every night you stand by the window looking. For who?
Father. You still have a habit of seeing him in anyone,
Who wants to give you a hand.
Nevertheless, it is too rough to offer love,
And too soft to provide protection.
Look into her eyes. What do you see?
Disappointment.
Then what prevents you from being yourself?
A throat. The bump grows in your throat every time when she asks
What are you seeking for in the midst of the dusk?
Light.
YOU ARE READING
depressed teen's note
Poésieeach chapter is a piece of my mind. my goal was to show that nowadays people no longer maintain such close relationships with each other and are more prone to depression or other mental disorders. although this phenomenon is increasing in young peop...
