8th grade, thirteen years old.
That’s me.
Has two close friends with depression
and can think of another seven in the grade who also do.
That’s me.
Knows three people who have attempted suicide,
five who have slit their wrists,
a girl who had such a bad panic attack
she almost died,
three people who have starved themselves.
That’s me.
Only knows these few struggles of a few people.
Knows there are probably countless more
thirteen
year
olds
who have to battle their own inner demons
on a daily basis.
Thanks God everyday
that she doesn’t know what these demons look like
and hopes she never has to.
That’s me.
Wishes she could just help take away her friends pain
but can’t because she doesn’t
have the slightest idea what it feels like
but she wishes she oh so wishes
that she could somehow
convince everyone that they matter
because they do
they all do.
She believes any person anywhere can and will
bring value to the world when given a chance
if only we could make them see that.
No one deserves to die!
That’s me.
8th grade, thirteen years old.
That’s me.
