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Missing Me
Why is my voice so Shakey?
The earth feels quakey.
Is the doorbell dinging?
Why are my ears ringing?
The room is so loud, yet I can't hear a thing.
I cannot distinguish what you're saying.
I can see you, yet can't.
My vision is blurred.
I cannot dare utter a word.
My stomach has dropped.
I cannot breathe.
Panicky panicky, why me?
Falling, falling. From higher than that tree.
What of me has come to be?
Loving and extroverted, that girl used to be. That girl used to be me.
Where oh where is she?
I miss a lot, but she the most.
Innocent and sweet, I used to be.
Outgoing and friendly was she.
Always smiling and happy I used to be.
That I have sadly outgrown. Now I'm always tired and zoned.
Unfocused, tired, and hurt now.
Effects of the hit, the hit of the brick.
I used to run and kick, now I'm just a stick.
The stick in the mud, that is.
Stuck and sinking farther and farther.
Falling deeper and deeper into the hole. I try to climb out but I fall again. Rocks piling on top of me each time.
By now the rocks have covered me and I quit trying.
I've given up.
I feel so stuck.
Now there I lay, breathing not.
And you're probably out there smoking pot, while I was left here to rot.
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This piece is a personal interpretation of mental struggles, specifically anxiety and depression, and emotional neglect because of drug use in a family line. All of which I personally have undergone.