Our minds are sick,
So pale and numb,
Our thoughts they consume,
And take over our body.
We are not diagnoses,
And pretty round pills,
We are not disorders,
And long therapy sessions.
We are not depression,
And long nights filled with tears,
We are not anxiety,
Or nails tearing our skin apart.
We are not our OCDs,
Organizing and rearranging,
We are not bipolar,
Ranging from happy to sad within seconds.
We are not our eating disorders,
And fingers shoved down our throats,
We are not our eating disorders,
And restricted calories.
We are sick,
But never seem to get,
The acknowledgement we need,
Because we're too young to have problems.
We are disorderly,
Yet we do not get the help,
That we need and deserve,
Because people have it worse.
We are unmotivated,
Because we have lost,
The need to care,
About anything.
We are unbalanced,
Chemically in our brains,
But still people think,
It's all for attention.
Like I wanted to be sick,
And starve myself,
And hate myself,
And have a desire to die.
Mother please,
I do not wish to hear your cries,
And just like my screams for help,
I will ignore them like you did.
Father please,
Do not tell me you understand,
When I went crying to you,
All you did was yell.
Brother please,
Do not tell me I can talk to you,
You are the reason I am like this,
You goddamn son of a bitch.
Oh doctor please,
Prescribe me something,
Instead of telling me,
To just fucking stop hurting myself.
My love please,
Do not tell me you need me,
When I know you will leave me,
As soon as we see each other.
I am tired of being told,
It's just a phase,
I've been like this,
For 4 years now.
It's not a damn phase,
It is an illness,
And I'll admit,
I need some fucking help.
We are only kids,
Who lost ourselves,
And these illnesses,
Do not define us.
