Dead End

In the 5th grade I fell out of a tree

This tree was higher than my hopes crushed by society

Higher than my heart's flutter at my first kiss

I fell down and I fell down

Wishing that my useless arms would sprout to wings

Wishing to fly away like a beautiful bird

But all I was given was a concussion, bloddy nose, and empty heart

I was handed over a life-time of depression and mental health issues

Loneliness cascaded over my body like the showers where I spend 2 hours crying

My voice drowned by the rushing waves of water

Filling my vocal chords with something as cold as my dying body

 

In the 7th grade my father left this world 

He braved the strain in his fingers to put a bullet through his head

The grass below stained with divorce and alcohol

He wasn't even given the time to cry out a final word

He wished that his tired arms would sprout to wings

Wished to fly away like a beautiful bird

But he was given the purest dark there is in this world

The dark where eyes do not open again

Where fingers won't wrap themselves around another being

A darkness where little kids go who have no parents to hold them after a nightmare

 

9th grade was the year of new things and first things

New gender, first kiss, new name, first date, new clothes, first girlfriend

Freshman year was like a dream come true for me

Until self-harm became the new routine 

Everyday was drowned out by razor-blades and box cutters

My new home was run by doctors and pshycopaths

My bleeding arms wished to sprout to wings

Wished to fly away like a beautiful bird

But hurting myself became my best and only friend

Pushing my closest companions away

Screaming in my ear that they don't care

That I'm alone

 

Now it's 10th grade and I'm trapped

Stuck in a treatment center where no one bothers to notice

Notice the newest scars and dried tears

My heart crumbling to bits and pieces like sandstone

But I do not wish for my arms to sprout to wings

I do not wish to fly away

Maybe this is where my journey ends

In between too many white walls and locked doors

Where medication becomes the new diet

Relationships become more superficial than hallway smiles

I think I've reached a dead end

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741