Small Problem.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Ran off to London and had a revelation.
Really really proud of this.

Submitted: October 24, 2014

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Submitted: October 24, 2014

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MY MOTHER TELLS ME SHE UNDERSTANDS WHEN I TELL HER I'M OVERCOME WITH ANXIETY FROM SIX MONTHS AGO, THE NIGHT BEFORE I START A NEW COLLEGE. SHE THINKS IT'S JITTER BUGS. I DON'T TELL HER IT'S THE WORRY THAT MY FIFTEENTH  OVERDOSE OF THE YEAR WON'T WORK. 

MY FATHER TELLS ME HE GETS IT WHEN I EXPLAIN TO HIM THAT THE WEIGHT OF NOT BEING GOOD ENOUGH FORCES ME TO STAY IN BED ALL DAY, FAKING SICKNESS ON A COLLEGE MORNING. I DON'T TELL HIM THAT THE ONLY REASON I'M STAYING HERE IS BECAUSE MY BED IS WARM AND THE STARES THE GIRLS SHOOT ME DURING CLASS ARE SO COLD, I'M STILL SHIVERING A DAY AND A HALF LATER WITH THE CENTERAL HEATING ON FULL AND A BLANKET WRAPPED AROUND MY SHOULDERS. 

MY SISTER SAYS SHE WORRIES BUT HOPES I'M OK WHEN I TELL HER THAT AT NIGHT, WHILE SHE'S SLEEPING, DREAMING OF FLOWERS AND KISSES, I'M ACROSS THE HALL SCREAMING INTO MY PILLOW BECAUSE IT FEELS LIKE SOMEBODY PUNCHED A HOLE THROUGH MY CHEST AND RIPPED MY LUNGS OUT. I CAN'T BREATHE, I TELL HER AND SHE NODS, STARING DOWN AT HER MOBILE PHONE SCREEN LIKE SHE CARES BEFORE SHE HURLS QUESTIONS TOWARD ME ABOUT THAT BOY I WAS DATING. WHAT WAS HIS NAME? THOMAS? LUCAS? LIAM. I DON'T TELL HER, AS I WALK AWAY, THAT EVEN THOUGH I HAVE A+ SWIMMING SKILLS, IT FEELS LIKE I'M DROWNING. 

BUT IF YOU UNDERSTAND OR GET IT OR WORRY BUT HOPE I'M OK THEN WHY, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHY, DO YOU TELL ME THAT I'M BEING SILLY OR THAT THE WORLD DOESN'T CARE IF I HAVE A SMALL PROBLEM. IT'S NOT A SMALL PROBLEM, DON'T YOU SEE? THIS SMALL PROBLEM FEELS LIKE THE WORLD TO ME. 

?C.B


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