Before we get into this, I want to make crystal clear that this poem isn’t about me. I wrote this to give voice to an issue that’s, unfortunately, pretty common today. I just didn’t want people to freak out thinking something is up with me! Anyway, here it is:
I wanted to tell you
I really fucking did
But every time I tried
I felt awkward and stupid..
I tried to tell you once,
Even a couple of times
But every time I went to speak,
I felt nothing inside.
One time I almost told you
I didn’t know what to say
So I didn’t say a fucking word
I hoped the feeling would go away.
I was afraid people would say I was looking for attention
Coz I’ve heard them say that before
So even though my stomach filled with tension.
My mental struggle is something I ignored
So even though I never told you,
I always told myself
That I was being a fucking pussy
And that I didn’t need help.
And then one day it got too much
I couldn’t stand the way I felt
Although my mind couldn’t find peace in any person
My neck found solace in a belt.
Just try to understand
For the this Earth I was not able.
I took my life in my own hands
Rather than face the world’s cruel label.
Unfortunately today we just don’t want to listen
Unless something serious has happened:
Any mention of depression
Is seen as an overreaction.