"It's ok, I feel sad too sometimes."

But not like this.

"You're faking it."

I'm only telling the truth.

"I know how you feel."

Not on my level

"Stop being so lazy!"

Lazy  ≠ exhausting

"Get over it, and stop feeling sorry for yourself."

I can't get over a mental illness.

"It's not that bad if you aren't cutting yourself"

Self harming isn't always cuts.

"Don't give your life away!"

Actually, good idea, what do I have to lose?

Why long for a hike in the mountains,

when you could play Adventurer in your backyard?

Why dream of a Fennec fox,

when you could pretend your cat is a mighty lion?

Why wish you had more friends,

instead of being grateful for the friends you have.

Why always want instead of seeing whats right in front of you,

for one day **** it may all be gone.

Eat

Sleep

Grow

Repeat

Scavenge

Salvage

Make things neat

Produce offspring

Stay safe

Scurry about

For one who comes in,

may not always go out

Make sure you go as a mouse's life bends

And use your life wisely till comes your end

You say a nasty comment is hurtful to you,

and you show people your "painful *****".

While others suffer much worse and theirs pains are stabs and deep cuts.

Others say how happy they are in their rich homes, and yet they still complain,

and yet others who live on the streets and they are truly joyful to even be alive,

and still not a single complaint falls from their mouth.

Instead of focusing on yourself, focus on others,

because you never know what they have been through.

pain

dolor

痛

dolore

zafi

Although we speak different languages,

the message is clear:

We are hurting, mentally or physically.

We are brought together because of our pain.

WE

I thought you knew,

I thought you would listen to me,

But instead you ignored my longing and misery.

But that's OK, because I told you the story.

I put my trust in you,

and I thought we would soar high,

but I ended that day,

feeling embarrassed and shy.

But that's OK, because with you, I shared the reason why.

Now to this day,

I hide in my pillow in shame,

because I said it's OK,

and I cry with the rain.

No one knows.

They never will.

They laugh at me and taunt me,

cal me names, bully me.

The thoughts are getting louder,

my sanity growing thinner.

Flashbacks become daily visions,

and dreams are thrown away.

Dreams come true,

but one will have to end in rue.

And though before the rainbow comes the rain,

there will also be that storm so vain.

And others hear but do not listen,

as the story goes.

But only a true listener,

knows this poem like I know.