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Jun 2018
Fun facts about me,
Let’s see
One
Anxiety has found a companion in me
Two
My hands sweat all the time, and I can’t control the way I feel
Three
I’m a straight A student who never was sure that straight’s a word in the dictionary
Four
I don’t like people for no reason at all
Five
My head’s messed up with all these deadlines I seem to have missed
Six
I loathe myself
Seven
I’m scared of being forgotten and it keeps me up
Eight
I have trouble sleeping because when I close my eyes, I imagine heaven
And I know it isn’t real, because I’m not meant to be there
Nine
I like arguing about my beliefs but I still feel anxious every time I speak up
Ten
I can’t comprehend everything at once, and it all blows up,
And then the next thing I know, I’m having a panic attack

All those things I’ve just stated are true,
But then again there’s a thin line of what is the truth and what people believe is the truth.
So I don’t know what’s the purpose of gloating.
My feelings apparently aren’t valid enough for people,
They say, I’m too young to feel these things,
They say, I’m in my early years so why not enjoy it.
You see, the problem is I can’t.
No matter how much I try to lull myself into this dream, I can’t bring myself to.
You see, my thoughts have now taken ownership,
They’ve spiralled into something more than a 13-year-old can even understand.
They say I’m not supposed to feel this way,
But what am I supposed to do,
When I feel the walls caving in?
What am I supposed to do,
When I’m stuck on an island and the only fish I can find is the one in my own bloodstream?
I’m tired.
I’m so tired of always feeling this way,
I don’t want to be me anymore,
But that’s not how it works,
Things like these never go away,
They just escalate,
And I let the weeds grow.
I let them because there’s nothing else to do.
Until there’s none of me left to actually consider,
Until all there is are the weeds I forced myself to plant inside me,
Until I don’t remember my own name.
It doesn’t matter anyways, I’m too young to know what it feels like to be saved

When someone at the table talks about how mental problems are just illusions and how teens are just using them as ways to get popular,
I bite down on my tongue so hard, I can ******* own blood.
I don’t say anything,
Because I’m just a kid,
What the hell do I know?
Written by
Kiara Malig
  1.2k
     Scott and AAron Roz
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