Will I make it?
I am not sure.
This whole journey
has been such a blur.
The tassel in sight
I know it will be soon.
Graduation
Will be in bloom.
These last four years
have been mighty crazy,
Full of emotion,
It just seems so hazy.
Walking in inside,
The first day of class.
I hide under a veil
That serves as a mask.
My smile appears
Seemingly fine
When inside my soul
I just want to die.
Depression lingers
for that first year
it causes addictions
that makes me fear.
Addicted to pain
I turn to the knife
I begin to lose care
for death or for life.
As semesters go on
I begin to find ease
but not without struggling
with the constant tease.
On top of it all
I develop a fear
of coming out
to anyone near.
But I push through the pain
Supporting my friends.
Living my life
As though high school will never end.
Wading through classes
And staying as active as can be
I build up my resume
So that one day I might be free.
Because when college comes,
I'll be myself.
I'll forget all of the pain
And put depression on a self.
But alas it is here
The end of four years.
We finally made it,
With our diplomas we cheer.
Here's to the next journey
As college awaits.
With high school finished
I hope I'm through all my mistakes.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry. From the broken soul.
PoesíaPoetry written over a time span of over ten years. This includes some of my darkest and lightest moments and the stories of others. Most deal with topics such as suicide, depression, family, eating disorders, religion, self harm, acceptance, recover...
