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It Gets Better

January 27, 2021

Several years have passed, but it feels like only days.

Everything in my life is foggy, nothing has changed

since I was younger and had more time to write.

I've grown into an adult, but nothing is all right.

I've hoped for so long that I could find a place

where I can be myself and not have to chase

validation and acceptance for the thoughts in my mind.

I've searched, I have, but there is nothing in sight.

I have love all around me, with my family and friends.

They assure me I'm safe, they'll be there 'til the end.

I don't doubt that, but they seem to misunderstand

that these problems I have are out of my hands.

It's three in the morning, I'm working at eight.

If I go to sleep now, I'll still probably be late.

I'll get through the day, pay the bills, go to bed,

just to have this cycle repeat itself again.

When the night gets darker and my mind is awake,

there is nothing I can do but hope I don't think

about the forks in the road- which one I'll take.

I could visit the skies above or pretend I'm ok.

The medications, the drugs, and the alcohol

have never helped me feel better at all.

The only thing that's stopped me from leaving forever

is telling myself at night, "I promise, it gets better."

It helps for a moment, but soon my mind persists

that it isn't true- it doesn't get better than this.

I have tried to change all the errors of my ways,

but to no avail. This may be the last of my days.

To everyone who loved me, to everyone that cared,

I don't want you to think that any of you shared

a part in this self-destructive game of my life.

In the end, everything will be all right.

Nothing will change in the world outside my own.

Everyone else will have a place they call home.

My only hope is that by relieving my pressure,

maybe for the others, it actually does get better.