A Balloon

I feel like a balloon released to the wind,

soaring, floating- I’m surviving on my own.

I see the world below me,

and all the wonders and happiness around me.

I wonder If I will find the ground again

and find that happiness too.

But at times, I feel out of control.

The wind moves me, I go along

thinking there are so many things to see

but It feels like I am reaching new heights

higher, higher and further from the dream below.

I want to be grounded.

I want to be tethered to something in this world

that gives my existence a purpose.

I’m too high now. No one can reach my string

and pull me back to earth.

So I’ll keep floating until I pop from

too many changes in atmospheric pressure

and when I finally return to the ground,

all that will be left is broken remains.

The Worst Part

Sometimes the worst part about being depressed

isn’t not having the energy to get out of bed for two days

or realizing you haven’t eatten a real meal in 3

or resorting to bad habits and addictions

or considering unhealthy habits that will only hurt you

or finding a dozen more reasons to hate yourself.

Sometimes. it’s wanting to tell the person you trust most

and not being able to for fear of being ignored again.

Missing

How does on miss something they’ve never had?

How can it cause such pain and a heart so sad?

Can you yearn for a heart you’ve never known?

Can you be buried in feeling not shown?

Do you overthink every lost chance?

Do you regret not choosing to dance?

Why must we crave the things forbidden?

Wy must the grief leave us here bedridden?