I don't know what the fuck I'm doing
One minute I'm figuring shit out
Got me a part time job
Grades up
Getting out of bed
Going to appointments
Getting my medication
Plans for moving out and saving money
Then the next thing, I blink
And I realize it's been 6 months since meds
I'm failing a class
I'm dropping tabs and smoking every second
Drinking at school during class
Not getting dressed
Not getting out of bed
Can't fake a smile
Not even answering anyone
Because i have no fucking idea what to say
"Clark. You're 18. You can't skip work again. Grow up"
She was right about me
He was right about me
Sick, addict, fucked up
What can I fucking say?
....
I just want to breathe again...
Ignore my rambles because they come out scrambled,
Junctions and jumping to the assumptions,
Of me being even remotely fine.
These are just feelings...
Everything is temporary,
Just like life...
But I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Poems: Gade 12- Present Day
PoetryFrom another guy in the world, to you. Words that aren't spoken, but remain true. I hope you find comfort in my poetry too. A rusted connection to my reality, because honestly. I've lost it.
