a state of unbalance
is all my childhood was.
being 9, crying my eyes out,
because (-) told me i should die.
being 10, not knowing,
if that fuzzy feeling for a girl is okay.
being 13, trying to fit in,
so much i lose sight of my own self.
being 15, thinking my body,
is the only thing that matters about me.
should a child go through this?
no, but i did.
nobody can tell me;
it wasn't *that* bad.
you know, it really wasn't,
there's people who have it worse..
but since when is it okay
to compare suffering?
i spent most of my life in tears.
when tears flooded my face,
then dried out tears were all i felt,
besides my heart being empty.
holidays spent at home,
favorite hobbies feeling like work,
not being able to get out of bed,
a drained social battery,
and all i can do is;
rot.
a day can be perfect,
feel like all problems were fake.
then in a split second
you're back to not being
able to do anything
just lay on the ground
and zone out.
"you're lazy."
am i?
