Family?

by taytay0016

December 14, 2015

I get so worried about what people think

I'm a mess inside

That must be why I see a shrink

I've hated my life ever since I was young

I used to talk back

Now I sit back and bite my tounge

When I was little I lost a mother

Now all that comes is depression

And cuts one after another

I give myself pills from my secret stashes

When my father find out he gets mad

And because of my mistakes I get a few hundred lashes

I hate my house and all the people in it

But they could care less

Im falling apart bit by bit

Someone save me from myself

Something wrong with this poem?

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Comments (1)

A SFeb 10, 2016

Hi there, I'm struggling to place how this poem makes me feel. As a writer, it is your job to not only profess your states as someone who experiences and therefore seeks answers through poetry--which you've done, here, quite vividly--but also to give your reader something to take away. Excellent work with setting up the reason why you would write, but I think this poem serves more as a self-description than a release of emotion. My advice? Dig deeper. Why are you looking outside yourself for answers? What is it that You have to offer yourself? I tell everyone to keep writing, but you are someone for whom I consider the request especially important. Best, Aubrie