self growth

hey, eighteen is a weird transitional phase

 

 youre naive to think you know what you want but too young to realize you dont know anything.


 

 

  youre going to travel halfway across the country

 

 expecting to escape your general boredrom and malaise

 

 but you cant run away from yourself.


 

 

  youll chase after the first person that fills the emptiness

 

 bending over backwards to keep them around.

 

 

  its scary to think of doing it all on your own

 

 but between us

 

 hes no good for you anyway.

 

 

  when youre nineteen and all you care about is your weight

 

 i can promise that this is just a catalyst

 

 

  to long days of punching yourself in the stomach

 

 paranoia that your purging will be heard by your roommate

 

 and many nights filled with self hatred.

 

 

  its easy to fill the internal void with something as rewarding

 

 as feeling your entire physical presence shrivel away.

 

 

  but when youre crying about the chocolates you got for your birthday that you cant eat

 

 dont you think that its bordering

 

 on obsession?

 

 

  and when youre twenty years old you will start out the year

 

 drinking with your mother on your birthday on the kitchen floor.

 

 

  it will feel like youve finally formed a real connection with her

 

 until the alcohol dissolves and the happiness disappears

 

 and you realize youve got to get out of here.

 

 

  you will spend too long finally getting your sh*t together

 

 but at least youre starting to feel alive.

 

 

  after living so long without feeling like youve got a future

 

 you panic if you dont take a moment to appreciate good weather.

 

 the sun doesnt shine everyday now, does it?

 

  -yourself 

This poem is about: 
Me

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