Dear Diary,
Today I saw a kid, who I knew really well,
He’s a straight A student, and… man you could tell.
He’s laughing, and joking, with three other guys.
But something’s not right, there’s a look in his eye.
That look that you get when you don’t feel alright,
He said he was good, but his eyes were full of fright.
There’s a girl in my class who does nothing but smile,
Who makes everyone else feel like they’re worthwhile,
She’s tall and she’s kind, and runs track as a sport,
And never, ever, seems to fall short.
But again, there’s a look, I know I’ve seen it before,
From that boy that I’m friends with, well... not anymore.
Dear Diary,
He’s pulling away, shutting everyone out,
But nobody knows what this is all about.
His eyes are glazed over, He’s stuck in his head,
There’s a lot that he thinks of, that’s going unsaid.
She’s losing friends fast, and just dropped out of track,
Because of some “Family Reason”, and how there’s no coming back.
The friends she has left say her family is fine,
And that there is something else going on, behind the front lines.
Dear Diary,
Today I see a boy, who’s sitting by himself,
One I used to know, not speaking to anyone else.
His grades are falling, his health is too,
And if you try to talk to him, he’ll just ignore you.
The girl that I mentioned, something’s really amiss,
It all started when I saw the, scars on her wrist.
Her sleeve started to rise, and she quick covered her arm,
No one else seemed to notice, but I saw the self harm.
I wonder what made her do it, draw on her arms with the knife,
Like a pen drawing on paper, what could have caused her strife.
Dear Diary,
Last week,
She took her last breath, his was three days later.
In her letter, she said that we’d hate her,
That if we knew, we would call her a traitor.
That we’re not “real friends”, we were just trying to bait her,
Into caring for us, and making her think we were caring for her, to maybe help keep her afloat.
“But for the few of you... who actually care,” she wrote;
“You couldn’t have saved me, even if you wanted to.” I quote.
He didn’t leave a letter, or a text, or a call,
No one will ever know why he did it, or what caused the fall.
As he sat in his room, alone, as he felt the lone bullet,
No one know’s why the trigger... why he pulled it.
Dear Diary,
When I saw those two suffer, it tore me apart.
It ripped a big hole, right in my heart.
What happened, it really did pull me to pieces,
How they handled their pain, the only way it releases
Was,
By scarring their skin, and cutting everyone off,
By starving, and blaming only themselves and they scoff,
When I ask, if they’re ok, and say that they.. are... fine.
I was once told to speak the truth, even if my voice shakes,
So I stand here talking, as my lips quiver, and hands quake, saying that
Depression is a problem, that needs to start getting noticed,
As a real mental disease, not just some kid being unfocused.
It’s happened before, and it will happen again,
It could happen to someone, you call your, best friend.
