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This poem is a very personal one. Depression and anger are very volatile. Self-hatred can cause you to see yourself differently and ask questions. This one has my present self being questioned by my younger self and reflects on everything that destroys me.


10600587_10204764587811044_3323353174422219428_nby Devin Mitchell Durbin22 Jul 2013

How come I can be optimistic for everyone else?
How come I fault when it comes to my own,
And I just fall away?
It seems the world around me has it out for me,
And my optimism keeps dwindling by the day,
And no matter what I do, it seems to fall apart
And I keep looking back,
And trying to make myself believe
That everything in the past was better than today.

How can I be so naïve and say that my past was good,
When all it was turned out into a lie?
There’s greener pastures in my future, I want to believe.
Every time I’m left alone I go back into the past.
I imagine her face, and I imagine my failure.
And I beat myself up, and I bite my lips
Until I can’t even eat, without thinking about the pain.

So reverent am I of everything come and gone,
I can’t seem to hold on, to what’s about to come,
But I do what I can to get out of bed, but
Sometimes I’ll sleep for twelve hours,
And sometimes I’ll get none,
And when I roll out of bed, I’ll just fall back asleep,
But really I’m just hiding from my real life,
I just want to be alone.

I don’t like being alone, because when I’m alone
I just think too much, and I wander off to places
I shouldn't be allowed to go,
And I hate how I look when I look in the mirror,
And my reflection just stares at me,
And I want to break it, so I can’t see
How my past just stares at me and asks,

“Why are you still there?
Shouldn't you be gone now, shouldn't you have a life?
Shouldn't you have a better job, shouldn't you have a car?
Shouldn't you have money, and shouldn't you be in a band?
Shouldn't you be a published author, shouldn't you be a man?
Shouldn't you be everything I ever dreamed of?
Why are you still alone? Why are you still at home?
Why have you given up? Why am I such a failure?”

You walk out into the living room and everyone’s laughing,
And you know they aren't laughing at you, but you can’t help but feel it.
You swear that they are talking about you, when you go to work.
You’re sure that they hate you, and you’re pretty sure it’s true.
You lash out and you break down, and they don’t know what’s wrong with you.
You think that they know you’re crazy, but you won’t admit you’re crazy.
You think that you’re going to fail, and everything breaks down around you.
You don’t think you can do it, you don’t think you have it in you,
And she said the same thing to you, and it still gets to you this day.
“Your words mean nothing to me anymore,” and you feel the same.
Sometimes you’ll be writing and you hate it just the same.
Am I telling the truth or am I playing another lying game?
Am I using everyone in my life, are they using me,
Am I disappointing everyone I've ever known?

My head just wants to explode, and I keep quiet,
Even though sometimes I swear I’m dying,
As I look down at my toes. Sometimes I swear I’m dying
No matter what I do.
I swear that I am failing, and that I won’t make it to August.
Yet I don’t want to die, because I still want to fly,
But I still feel like I am, and I don’t know what to do,
So I just sleep;
Because it’s something that I get right.
Even if I don’t sleep through the night.