To my friends, I’m sorry I’m not always around anymore.
Apparently growing up means struggling to get out of the door.
It means laying awake all night and struggling to get up in the mornings.
It means wishing you hadn’t said that,
And feeling your head full of forewarnings.
Stop playing with your hair,
Stop being so intense,
Stop crying over nothing,
Stop trying to make sense of everything and just let it be. But that’s harder than it seems.
To my friends, I’m sorry I second guess everything you say.
Apparently growing up means leading yourself astray.
It means wishing you’d stayed in when you’d gone out.
It means filling your head with constant feelings of doubt.
Do I look fat in this outfit?
Do they even want me around?
Do I annoy you all the time?
Do they hate every sound that I make? Because that’s always how it feels.
To my friends, I’m sorry I keep contacting you to make sure you’re okay.
Apparently growing up means having thoughts of constant dismay.
It means you feel like everyone you love doesn’t want you there.
And dealing with a constant ache in your heart much like despair.
I’m not good enough.
I’ll never succeed.
I’m always so unhappy.
And so these thoughts bleed into my everyday life. I just can’t stop them.
To my friends I’m sorry if I seem selfish all the time.
I’m sorry I’m mostly self destructive.
And I’m sorry I can only express my feelings in rhyme.
Because I’m scared you won’t listen to me otherwise.
