2020 and I'm thinking to myself:
I have so much to say
But I'm not able to
It's too much for me
I can't make it end
Only shut it away
My head is full
Of racing thoughts
I'm held prisoner
By my own mind
I must keep quite
'Cause it's too personal
I'm scared and under pressure
By how others might react
And I think to myself:
I have so much to say
But I'm not able to
And I don't want it either
I feel forgotten
Abandoned by the others
And lost within myself
I think it's all my fault
It's because of me and only me
I hate myself for what I am
For what I see in myself
It's too much for me
I fall apart inside
And crumble too externally
Es ist zu viel für mich
Ich zerbreche innerlich,
Zerfalle äußerlich
I can't make it end
Only hide
But what if I could?
So often so close
Yet always a coward
Way too much and no way out
I just want to get away
Yet I always stay
Four years it's been
So much time has passed
And so much has changed
I could, in fact
I could speak up
And I could live on
I told myself:
It's getting better
Not every day
But in the bigger picture
My life's about me
I'm allowed to open up
Problems can be
But they shall pass
I'm here and I'm staying
I'm not a coward but courageous
I will fight
For and with my life
☆
This is a rough translation of something I wrote last year (Viel zu sagen, in my one shot book). It's based on an assignment we had in school in 2020. We had to write a few stanzas of a "song" for music class and I basically trauma dumped in it. I turned in the first stanza of this poem and some more verses I then later turned into this longer piece.
I'm a little angry that my teacher didn't even bother to ask if everything's alright and just said something like "great, that's some emotional lines!" without questioning that it might be about real problems.
I wrote them out of my worst depressive episode as some sort of cry for help and nobody cared.
Ever since the lines stayed in my head, which is why last year I decided to adapt them to my then current situation of recovery and now I feel comfortable enough to publish it.
(And translating/adapting it to English is a good practice, as I have my oral exam in a few days)
YOU ARE READING
It does get better.
PoetryPeople say it will get better. But to be fair, most of them never were in your place. They say you will get happy again, but how can they know? I've struggled with trauma, mental illnesses and self harm for many years. These are (mostly) poems - abo...
