poem

Crimson Roses 

A poem about mental health

by Liam

Whats the matter with me? Why cant I focus? Why cant I feel at all?

Im sorry for being this way, i really am.

I cant change.

Not on my own 

The crimson roses and crows in my mind are hurting me.

No one else notices how much my mind is falling apart.

If someone asked, i’d tell them.

But no one does.

Everyone just thinks Im lazy and vain.

They dont know why i am the way i am.

And they dont care, they dont even listen.

So whats even the point?

I dont have the energy anymore.

To rip myself out of bed.

To brush my hair.

To brush my teeth.

To even cry.

But I keep living, living on.

My teachers say Im in my own world.

My parents say Im lazy.

But i keep going, keep trying.

Keep wanting to move on.

Keep trying to heal myself.

 But I can’t do this all on my own.

And no one ive turned to in the past is here for me.

So i reach out a hand from the overgrown thorny rosebush im agonizingly nested into.

To see if someone outside holds my hand.

My hand, covered in dirt and thorns and splinters.

 And someone held it.

And its taking a while

Its  taking  some effort

But Im being pulled out of this mess.

Because someone held my hand

And listened.

Told me I was human.

Told me I had a story to tell

Told me there was a long road ahead

But  that everything was going to be okay

Around the bend, and in the end.