The Life in Rhymes of an Angsty Teenager

By Lindsey Olver All Rights Reserved ©

Poetry / Other

Fleeting Seasonal Feelings

Lately I've been spending my days all alone in my room.

Thinking of ways to change, but old habits seem to arise like freshly open wounds.

I just can't seem to stop constantly picking at my brain.

Thinking of myself, conceited as hell, I only do things for my own personal gain.

You tell me I'm different now, nothing like who I used to be.

No longer easy going, too serious, and without a soul so free.

With eyes like stormy thunder clouds, flooding my bed with sullen tears.

Gone too long without showing true emotions, they've built up just beyond my eyes for years.

Like a river breaking the levy, nonstop they overflow.

Your words they knock me out, in one single and final blow.

For hours on end, I will not mend, but exhaustion settles in.

By the time I am composed it has gone dark, and every light has dimmed.

I write my rhymes down on an intriguing white blank page.

It will help me diminish these unsettling fears and feelings of rage.

I convince myself that I am still the same as always, but realization hits me hard.

I am too stubborn to admit to myself that I'm not, and that I've gone too far.

Whatever can I do, to redeem my old self?

It seems like I've forgotten who I am, like a disregarded book upon the shelf.

It's like I have to go back and read it all over again.

Jog my memory, and have it all come back to me, as best as I possibly can.

So many unknown emotions, overwhelming and taking over.

A body drunk on an abundance of confusion, no longer am I sober.

I don't know why I feel this way, nevertheless do I understand.

Permanently in my thoughts forever, while happiness has been banned.

Numbing me to the core, I seem to have lost faith in myself overall.

Who I've become is someone who frightens me, I am absolutely appalled.

Falling from such a high feeling to the darkness below, the cold rock bottom; I give up the struggle and quit.

I claw away on my ever so faltering knees, attempting to crawl out of this endless pit.

Falling from grace to this hellish place is not something I can endure.

I can't escape no matter my strength, my sanity is blurred.

And so I spend my time writing these rhymes, and filling up every blank line.

It makes up for the emptiness I feel inside, while all hope is lost and left behind.

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