My dream was killed by my secret told.
My date was set.
I had my plan.
I made the mistake by telling a friend.
She told the school.
I was sent away,
to a place with judges and people like me.
We were caged birds chirping to be free.
And when I was there, I found my new dream.
I achieved it by behaving "normal",
Whatever that may be.
I achieved it by taking the poison,
Prescribed specifically to me.
I achieved it by looking forward,
and never again of the past.
Three to five days of being a slave,
I was finally home at last.
I now hope to find a new dream,
and I dream to find my hope.
But seeing the mountain in front of me-
The one named recovery,
I often question my mentality.
There is a smooth road of relapse that taunts me,
with words like sugar that haunt me.
It dares me to walk, but I know I should climb.
The road wants to **** me, but the mountain promises my life.
I'm following the trail of the mountain,
but I often slip on the blood.
With the words of friends and supporters,
I once again stand up.
There's a steep incline,
but it's worth the time.
In the deepest valley,
I know I will rise.
I'm a wingless bird chirping to be free.
Happiness is locked, waiting for the key.
I search in my pocket,
for the object to unlock it.
I then realize the only one who could free me-
is me.
And just like that, I found my new dream.
This was written for an school assignment. Many of my classmates wrote about being famous or getting married and having a family... I, of course, was scared to read it aloud, for it deals with my problems. The teacher made me read it anyway and my anxiety levels went through the roof.
On that day, I made a teacher cry.
On that day, my classmates looked at me differently. The room was silent- aside from Ms.Roberson's sniffling. I was only fifteen, and yet I have gone through so much.
My hopes and dreams are to live. I no longer hear the words of the road, only the mountain.
I will live.