Hardest
See the reason why I am not here making a difference,
Is because of the people who told me that I wasn’t special.
That I wasn’t careful,
That I wasn’t able to become the person that I wasn’t.
That life wasn't to be created in a world full of hate,
That my life wasn't special.
It was just insignificant,
I was just lonely,
I was broken,
I was only a little girl thinking that the hardest thing was seeing her die.
I loved and I thought I could handle it,
But now it is just depression and that is the hardest thing to take in…
It hurts now that I can’t see,
I can’t feel the pain that I wish that I could feel
Like sadness and loneliness,
All I feel is like I scarred my mind,
Like I flashed into sorrow and couldn’t place things.
That I couldn’t understand my placing,
That I couldn’t recall my imaginary input.
That I couldn’t recall my self image,
Or what I looked like on the outside,
Nor could I feel what was happening on the inside.
Now I just sit there.
Imagining things,
Taking time to imagine a life where I could be the greatest,
Not broken.
Not lonely.
Just a life where I could be happy,
Where my life is not in shambles,
Not where I am taking orders from people that don't believe in me,
A place that I could make my own with only two ideas.
Sadness doesn't exist,
And neither does loneliness,
Does that mean that all this time my depression was nothing?
Was I just sitting in someone's shadow?
Or was I feeling an others emotion?
Was this me?
The one in the mirror staring back at me,
The one with the bags under her eyes,
Staring at me.
Just staring in wonder...
Was this me?
The one with the crooked teeth,
The one with no one else with me,
Was this me?