The Side You Don't See

I've written

My will.

In case my

Will to live

Hits zero

In case I

Lose all hope

And I'm finally ready

To give up

And give in

And end it

For good.

But you don't get it.

I don't want

To end it.

My will

Is a comfort

And it keeps

Me going.

Yeah,

It's in case

I want to end it,

But it's also in case

I need a reminder

Of all the people

I need to live for

If I can't live

For myself.

I need to read it

And see the people

Who it'd hurt

Before I could bear

To end it.

I can't bear

To hurt them.

I've published

Almost all the poems

I've ever written.

I say "almost"

Because I'm tired

Of the concern

I've been

Reported from

7th grade

To senior year

And I'm tired

Of all of them.

"I will tell you

If I need help"

But still

They don't 

Believe me.

I'm a mandated reporter.

I understand 

It's your duty

And you have

To do it

Even if I tell you

"I'll be there

In ten minutes."

You don't see

The other side

Of these reports

See

They sent me

Into hiding

But you don't see

They leave me

Internalizing

My feelings

Because it's not safe

To tell anyone else

How I feel

Without reporting me.

Without someone

Getting concerned

About me.

So many times

I convince myself

It'd be better if I

Just shut my mouth.

Concern

Would leave

And I'd be left

Alone.

Now,

It's my therapist

And me.

She's helped me more

Than you ever have

Because you don't know

The whole story

And it'd take me

19 years

To get through

It all--

Even longer

If you want

All the details.

If this

Is too much for you

Then stop reading.

No offense taken.

Not everyone

Can handle

My story

And that's ok.

It's heavy.

Like bricks

In a backpack,

You think

You can handle it

But in reality

You have

To put it down.

I get it.

Please

Stop all the

Concern.

It fine to care

But tell me

You care

Not

The concern

Because for me,

That's an added burden

And these bricks

Are heavy enough.

For the next few days,

Bear with me.

I'm going to post

All the ones

I've skipped posting.

People come

And they go

And maybe

I'll regret it later,

But maybe one day,

Someone will

Stumble across it

And reading it

Will help them

As much as

Writing it

Helped me.