Mar 2015
People always tell me that everything is temporary like how your friends in high school are only temporary till you go off to college. Well you see thats what my happiness is like. You see my happiness and depression are total opposites.when I’m happy I’m floating above the clouds care free like peter pan and my depression is like iv been tossed with rocks into the ocean sinking to the bottom and no matter how hard I try to swim to the surface i can never make it.
It binds me each morning to my bed cause it is so heavy that i can barely life the sheets and some days i cant make it out to go to school.See when this all began i just thought I was some weird 15 year old who was different or special but a part of me never felt comfortable in my skin. You see I thought i wasn’t good enough and that I wasn’t perfect so i decided to carve my self into someone new. tearing away at the skin ripping away the old and sewing it back together to make my self into someone who was good enough.
At the age of 16 I made a friend her name was loneliness and she kept me company. Sometimes she speaks ,but she is not very audible. Her voice sometimes sounds like the floorboards in my house creaking. She wraps me up in her cold in brace comforting me and making me forget what warmth was like.She taught me how to build 100ft walls that were impenetrable so no one could get in to see the broken boy.
At the age of 17 when people asked me “what do you see yourself doing in 10 years time” and honestly I never even thought that I would make it past age 15. I saw my self with slit wrist in a body bag having some ****** funeral service where people all whisper lies over my dead body like” I wish I got to know him better”
Now at 18 with faded scars and distance memories I still struggle to pull my self out of bed but I have finally understood why the feeling of having that tattoo needle pressed up against my skin felt so good. I can finally see the future and its coming home war. Its just over the horizon I know because in it I’m alive.
It binds me each morning to my bed cause it is so heavy that i can barely life the sheets and some days i cant make it out to go to school.See when this all began i just thought I was some weird 15 year old who was different or special but a part of me never felt comfortable in my skin. You see I thought i wasn’t good enough and that I wasn’t perfect so i decided to carve my self into someone new. tearing away at the skin ripping away the old and sewing it back together to make my self into someone who was good enough.
At the age of 16 I made a friend her name was loneliness and she kept me company. Sometimes she speaks ,but she is not very audible. Her voice sometimes sounds like the floorboards in my house creaking. She wraps me up in her cold in brace comforting me and making me forget what warmth was like.She taught me how to build 100ft walls that were impenetrable so no one could get in to see the broken boy.
At the age of 17 when people asked me “what do you see yourself doing in 10 years time” and honestly I never even thought that I would make it past age 15. I saw my self with slit wrist in a body bag having some ****** funeral service where people all whisper lies over my dead body like” I wish I got to know him better”
Now at 18 with faded scars and distance memories I still struggle to pull my self out of bed but I have finally understood why the feeling of having that tattoo needle pressed up against my skin felt so good. I can finally see the future and its coming home war. Its just over the horizon I know because in it I’m alive.
I know there are probably a **** tone of grammatical errors in this and I do apologize for it.
