Dear Me, I'm Sorry

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I've had quite the history of depression and anxiety, despite being so young. This came out of one of "those" moods.

Submitted: September 04, 2012

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Submitted: September 04, 2012

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I sit and cry on the balcony
my tears dry on my cheeks, drip on the already damp wood of the bench
my eyes sting, my hands and chest shake uncontrollably
I hear their voices rise underneath me
joking, my whimpers unheard to their limited hearing
no one ever knows.
I breathe deeply, the sound reverberates through my ears, sends chills through the air
my nerves are on fire
I rock and scratch at my sleeves, tighten my grip, cut into flesh
I find myself imagining the scene in my head
their arms are around my shoulders, patting lightly
I feel safe, yet punished because I lost the war
they've found out
"Everything will be okay." they assure me.
I can't help it 
I push them away
farther and farther until I'm certain I'm invisible to them
Liars..
so I sit on the bench and cry in the frigid breeze, freezing my tears in their tracks
"What do I do..." I whisper to no one
of course, the only answer I get back is the sound of my own choking and the whistling breeze, tussling my hair,
reassuring me that it will always be there.
I smile, despite my damp cheeks, despite the tightness in my heart
I stand up, my legs screaming at me
I won't let it happen.
they won't find out
I will win the war.


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