~Poems~

A Poem To Myself

You're two now. I know what you've seen. I know how the images keep repeating in your mind. I know the way you hate all these fights. But most of all, I know how much you want to scream. He's taking a the space, while you let him.

You're four now. Life is exciting! Or is it? Cold nights are shivering under your skin. Society's idea of being nothing. Down at the bottom. But you got each other?

You're five now. Their words is something you don't get. What are they saying? You don't get it. The fights keep repeating at home, stressing you out. But you keep on drawing and not pronouncing purple right.

You're six now. Their words are hitting you like whippets on your face. The nervousity is growing old. You like those furry little animals, old or not. You decide, you'll fight for everyone's rights.

You're eight now. The time has flown by. You found a friend, but you know she doesn't like you. You still don't understand the world's greatest evil. Because it doesn't make sense. You write a song about sadness and they talk with you. But you wrote it out of impuls. Did you?

You're nine now. People are still screaming, but you're still hyper. There has never been a place where you felt safe. Until now. You start going to this family, start going to a camp. Everything's a little bit better. But the mean words has no escape.

You're ten now. Two new friends and you do everything together. They help you. You can finally feel comfortable. You're so close. This is the year of your life.

You're eleven now. And things are bad again. They all wanna break you. Home is where hell is. Suddenly they say you've changed. The confusion. You wanna get away. They hate you. What have you really done? 'Pac is playing in your ears. The only calm pause.

You're twelve now. And things has gotten better or worse. You hate everything. You discovered someone that made your days just a little bit better.

You're thirteen now. Things has gotten better at first. Now they're worse. Every day is a struggle between sanity and being calm. The thoughts are eating you up. You try to reach, but they teach you that your friendship meant nothing. Broken. You feel like they're all leaving you. You're digging your own grave as you overthink. But there's a light? Music.

You're fourteen now. And honestly, has things really changed?