Ana
Active member
Dying Inside
Everyday I wake up,
With the same awful feeling in my gut—
The feeling of dying,
Falling apart a little each day.
Someone is chiseling away at my heart,
Destroying any hopes of happiness.
Everyone says its teenage stress,
But do they really know?
Try walking in my shoes one day—
Tell me it’s just stress.
They say look at the positives,
The glass is half full.
To me the glass is half empty,
No matter how much I pour into it.
I know the poem is a little sad and not helpful to those who are trying to get out of that state of mind. I had to post it though because I know many people feel the same way and by posting this I feel as if I'm telling the world I have a problem and accept it. As you can tell I have trouble accepting the thought of my illnesses but by speaking and posting about it I feel as if I'm being reasured that it's ok.
Everyday I wake up,
With the same awful feeling in my gut—
The feeling of dying,
Falling apart a little each day.
Someone is chiseling away at my heart,
Destroying any hopes of happiness.
Everyone says its teenage stress,
But do they really know?
Try walking in my shoes one day—
Tell me it’s just stress.
They say look at the positives,
The glass is half full.
To me the glass is half empty,
No matter how much I pour into it.
I know the poem is a little sad and not helpful to those who are trying to get out of that state of mind. I had to post it though because I know many people feel the same way and by posting this I feel as if I'm telling the world I have a problem and accept it. As you can tell I have trouble accepting the thought of my illnesses but by speaking and posting about it I feel as if I'm being reasured that it's ok.