I feel isolated all the time. I'm walking through a hallway and I see all these people smiling and joking and laughing and I know a lot of them probably experience the same things as me but it doesn't bring me any comfort. I'm all alone with this monologue in my head feeding me pain I turn into poetry and pondering on the loneliness of my existence. I'm smothered under the weight of a self-made isolation, comforting myself with ideas larger than one person. The strap of my backpack digs into the shoulder it dangles from, reminding me I am nothing more than a high school student. A notion that should bring comfort; what is the weight of expectation on a student, so new to life homework still greats the dawn of my everyday? Instead it's a hopeless atrocity. I am a quandary, cursed with the drive to taste something more, and never attaining it. I limit my days, and how hopeless that is, but how can I change that when my every day has been limited?
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After (2024)
NouvellesIt's a story about recovering from depression. My journey to stay happy after a long couple years. I write mostly poetry. If you want to read more about my struggles click my profile, I have one published story detailing my 2023 year. It's still har...
