sometimes I feel lost in the bed sheets;
clinging onto a body I wasn't made to
hold.

Sandbox giggles and seesaw chuckles
echo around the park.
Little ones pitter patter on tarmac and grass,
oblivious to their age.
All they know is the sun is shining
and they're going to feel like this forever.

Rubber throwing and hushed whispers
echo around the classroom.
Schoolkids adding and subtracting,
oblivious to their age.
All they know is that they hate math
and they're going to be an astronaut when they grow.

Cheesy pop songs and girly giggles
echo around a bedroom.
She's curling her friend's hair and smiling,
oblivious to her age.
All she knows is that Jake is a cutie
and she's going to marry him when she's 21.

Birthday wishes and lots of love!
echo around the dinner table.
He's having his first beer as an 18-year-old and loving it,
oblivious to his age.
All he knows is that he's going out tonight
and staying up till dawn.

Baby rattles and first words
echo around the house.
The baby is mumbling its first word,
oblivious to the meaning behind it.
All it knows is that its mummy is warm
and it's daddy smells nice.

Memories of sandboxes and summer nights
echo around their heads.
They're laying in a bed in a sanitary place,
oblivious to the current situation.
All they know is that their time is up,
but they had such fun whilst it lasted.

Is there anything purer
than the gaze of a dog, laying
across your lap or curled to
the motion of your legs?
Feeling their heart beat
on your calf, ‘protect me’
they say, ‘as, in turn, I protect thee’
They sigh. Warm breath on cold nights.
Amber eyes if shone
directly at them.
Growling at something in
The corner; a moth or Baphomet,
but whats the difference in their gaze?
Loyal to the touch,
Loving to the heart,
Linked to the soul
And then;
they depart.

'They're just a teen' gets dropped on the daily.
Like the added couple of letters at the end
determine whether our feelings are valued
or not.
They only ever tell us they're here for us
when someone offs themselves on the train
tracks next to the school. Call this number
if you feel down.
Teenage years are the time to find out who
you are, and maybe I am a depressed mess,
but us Gen Z kids are doing our best to make
sure us sad'ens feel alright.
Sometimes we don't feel alright, and, so what,
if it is just down to hormones and periods,
and Max's muscly shoulders or Louise's
brown eyes.
We are allowed to feel like ****. Cos Teenage
years are the time where we find out life isn't
like animated movies;
that bad guys are defeated and the hero wins;
cos, in the end, sometimes we're our own saboteurs.
And we find out,
sometimes that's okay;  to knock ourselves down will
make us build ourselves up in the grand scheme of
things; I sure as hell know I hate how I feel most days,
and I'm sure most teenagers do.

I'm just a teen;
but I have a loud voice, terrible jokes and
a **** economy to grow into,
and I'm allowed to be mad and cry
and I'm allowed to feel like ****
and want to die
because in the end, I know it'll all
be fine.
Married or alone with wine.
Sometimes life is ****,
and that's okay;
and to me,
that is the teenage dream.

I haven't been so sad recently,
which is rare. I had the bad five months last year-
to the point I nearly killed myself.
And now I'm okay, but then it makes me think;
I'm not acting how I should act.
I don't feel like me anymore.
I'm bored,
I don't cry so often,
I feel like I'm wearing new shoes
that are slightly too small, to the point they
rub but don't leave a mark.
I think it's because I got so used to
being let down, that my body automatically
drops me a few stories every couple of weeks.
My eighteenth birthday was bad.
I think I just gave up on birthdays
and to think they used to be my favourite.
Now, I spend my time doing what is asked of me;
go to classes, smile, do work, go home, do homework,
sleep and not dream.
It feels weird.
I don't feel like me;
I want to feel like I'm dying again,
like the world itself is crumbling beneath my feet,
that, if I smile or move a muscle,
my whole being would explode;
shattering thousands with reminders that I was here,
because now I feel empty.
I'd rather feel like death personified
than nothing at all.

I've grown up so scared
in the past.
Forced to grow in habitats unknown
to myself or friends.
I feel within every fibre of
my being; the aching boredom of
being awake.
My body holds so much sadness,
but under layers of skin
and muscle and deep
cuts there is a softness
needed to be rediscovered.
I only mean well, but
when scared, I say things
that upset people in the hopes
of pushing them away
yet pulling them closer.
My shell is tough and uncrackable,
but if trusted, I poke my head out
now and again to show you
a smile
or a tear,
once in a while.