To the freshman sitting alone on the bus
Counting the scars on your wrists like train tracks
Creating a laundry list of the socially acceptable ways
To **** yourself.
Wondering if you'll jump off a bridge this year
Or bleed out in your bathtub next summer,
They'll be watching you.
You wish you could tell them they're wrong
You're different than all the depressed emo kids in the bad movies
Plastered to the television set like gum on the bottoms of desks
You're popular
But you're not pretty
Or happy.

To the freshman can I just tell you
In four years, you'll be happy.
To the freshman can I just tell you
You are pretty, you are beautiful, they all love you.
To the freshman can I just tell you
That the amount of likes you have on your profile picture
Equates to dust dissipating in the distance
To the freshman can I just tell you
The earth's curved wall will keep you grounded as you go through Hell
To the freshman can I just tell you
You don't know what *** feels like right now
But it is both amazing, like birthday balloons racing through your stomach
And overrated.
To the freshman can I just tell you
That a friend's overdose, two grandfathers' deaths, and one suicide later
You're still here.
To the freshman can I just tell you
Losing friends is the only way you know you can rely on yourself
It hurts like crazy, but the bleeding heals
And you find your own skin was the agent.
To the freshman can I just tell you
You'll go through horrific fashion trends
(Though none worse than the skeletons of middle school)
And still come out looking ****.
To the freshman can I just tell you
Graduation is not far away.
To the freshman can I just tell you
You're going to be ******* fantastic.
To the freshman can I just tell you
How ******* fantastic it is
To grow up to be me.