Grade school:
Doing anything to become popular.
Hurting those I would later find out were my true friends.
Uttering words that would
Cut deeper than any blade could.
Depression:
Something I now claim was just a phase.
(What a farce)
High school:*
Struggling,
To give a ****,
To find new friends,
To keep the old.
Struggling,
To hold onto those I loved,
Watching them slip through my fingers.
Depression:
No one knew.
My mask?
Perfected.
Social anxiety:
My mask starts to crack.
The crazy starts to show.
My friends,
They start to leave.
College:
Finally, I am myself.
New job.
New friends.
Understanding.
Life is good.
Forgetting:
The obsessions,
The anxiety,
The depression.
You:
Slowly deteriorating.
Obsessions,
Creeping back.
What are you doing?
Are you with her?
Did you even care for me?
Yes,
No,
Only for a short while?
How to become better,
To look better,
To think better,
To act better,
To be more talented,
To be more like her,
To be better than her,
To be good enough for you.
You.
The anxiety:
Consuming my mind.
Jumbling it up,
Unable to think,
Or rather to many thoughts to think through.
Depression:
Sinking in.
Ideas of ending it all,
Surfacing,
(Once again.)
Mask starting to form.
And I thought I was getting better.