I thought leaving I would finally be happy
Free of responsibilities
yet
I still feel trapped

there's this feeling in my stomach
  not like the sickness you feel when you have a stomach ache
or the butterflies of nervousness
  maybe this isn't in my stomach at all
it's like a bunch of deer running in a field
  but not gracefully
they're running from prey
  it feels as if my chest tightens as my stomach sinks
it's a mixture of anxiousness and worry

some days the therapist may ask,
"how are you doing?"
some days they may mention
"you look well rested,"
or bring up,
"you seem to be doing better than before."
But they don't realize that all these things are lies
that when I get home i'll break down into tears
wishing i'd die already and then pass out.
Is that what getting better looks like?

The amount of energy it takes to be as quiet as possible
while choking on your own tears and trembles at night.
The tears running down your face and neck leaving them to dry because you dont have the energy to wipe them away anymore.

As I lie here
Starring up at the night sky
Wandering about my purpose
About my direction in life

The leaf on a tree hanging on for no apparent reason
When you can already see it crumbling to pieces.
Holding on to it although it's not necessary
Only hoping to be given life but death is irreversible
Finally coming to the conclusion you no longer can help this leaf grow
So let it go, falling to the ground, to be turned into something else
To be treated with the care that you could never provide
Even if you tried