I'm hurt! I'm hurt! I'm hurt!
My heart is racing!
I’m so rattled,
My hands are shaking.

I’m on a bench on a cold winter night.
I would do anything to get away from this fight.
I’d rather be cold, and alone,
Than warm, and at home.

The strife! The strife! The strife!
I am drowned by my life.
My breath leaves me as tears come to me.
I don’t but I do, want someone to see me.

What am I doing?
I’m not depressed.
I guess I just write when I am stressed.

My poems show me how I feel.
I accept these feelings, then I deal,
With my thoughts,
So I can overcome this day.
After all, I know the way.