I was in a cage.
In that cage for so long, I couldn’t breathe.
But you came and broke me out of that cage-
Allowed me to believe I was free.
Free to breathe, to love, to touch.
Never noticing the walls slowly closing in around me until it was too late.
You brought me out of my cage,
only to shove me in a box.

The sun will still
Rise tomorrow
And the rivers will
Flow all the same.
No one will
Cry in sorrow
No one will
Remember my name.
I'll be long, long gone.
And what difference
Will it make,
If everything I am
Is a mistake?

Expected to know what to write.
Expected to fill these pages with wonderous words.
Expected to be good at that.
Expected to be a natural.
Expected to be the best.
Expected to be successful.
Expected to be more.
Expected to do more.
Expected to know what to say and exactly when to say it.
Expected to be kind, always.
Expected to be "normal".
Expected to grow up mentally past my years.
Expected to make a lot of money.
Expected to know what I want
Expected to know what I don't want.
Expected to get over it.
Expected to change more.
Expected to never change.
Expected to not be destructive.
Expected to always be happy.
Expected to make other people happy and keep them that way.
Expected to live.
Expected to recover.
Expected to want to recover.
Expected to live.
I've said that.

I'm occupied by my thoughts,
they drown me sometimes...
Do you know what it's like
to be afraid of your own mind?
I shut myself from the world,
In my bed, I hide...
I wish I could be like you,
unafraid, alive....
but that's not me at all,
I've been afraid all these years...
I wish I could escape it,
but it is what it is.......

Got so high
I forgot
To forget

She told me to write
So I did.
But now I'm left in a pile of poems and prose
That no one will ever get to read.
Feeling more emotions than I have in years
Too afraid to let them see that side of me.
My lies are bigger than I am now
So I walk in their shells
Attempting to pretend that I know what I'm doing.

She told me to write
Because what I make is beautiful
That the way my words twist and contrast
Make her interested.
That my raw emotion speaks to her
But she only saw my most prized pieces
Would my average work disappoint?

She told me to write
To let others see how I feel
Express myself in a way
That maybe they can comprehend
And attempt to understand.
But how can they possibly understand
When I'm too afraid to show them
What I actually feel like.

She told me to write
To work towards being okay
To continue putting one foot in front of the other
Because it was the only thing keeping me alive.
So I tried.