poem by dallise marais
I was 8 years old the first time I wanted to die.
13 the first time I carved my thigh.
It's crazy.
How one day I'm worrying about when i get to go play at the park.
then I blink .
suddenly I'm worrying about how I'll pay my rent or how I'll get my next meal
It's crazy.
how being borderline and depressed has taken over every aspect of my life
as my mind is constantly in shambles
reminiscing of better days.
never thought I'd live to see 18
but I'm 20 now.
I have no choice but to keep carrying on but how do I continue with these demons in my head and this pressure in my chest that gives me no rest
as if my mind is obsessed with the what if's and have beens
losing friends has always been a talent of mine and you'd think time after time it would get easier but it doesn't.
It's crazy.
but just maybe
one day I'll be happy
until then
I'm just a vessel of who I used to be. It's crazy.
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