jenna123: Notice Me. When it began, It was like a game, I never realised that things would never quite again be the same. I thought it would give me, Something that I lacked, Only too late I realised, It would not do that, in fact. I have to admit, I enjoyed the benefits, But i could not enjoy them, Until it was too late. I was too caught up, In being better at it, That I did not realised, I had reached my target. But a part, I have not mentioned yet is that the benefits, were not worth it, the way I destroyed, my very own life, My habits consumed, my every thought, I could not do things, Without it playing a part. I realised how dangerous it was, and it became, my will to stop. Stopping was not, As easy as I thought, Panic rose with Increased numbers, I was desperate, To go back, And to be. consumed again, So that I would not, Have to face the fright, Of idleness, or so I thought. I struggled on, Alone, I believed, Until I confided in a friend, And things became, Okay again. But then the nagging, Fear came back, Now in a different form, Drilled in my mind, Before was such, Now there is a new fear, The opposite of, What began. Something, had to be done, to be rid of it, and so I did, what needed to be done, and hid my secret, in shame. It did not end there, Played on repeat, Now I face it, As my new defeat. I dare not ask, For help again, I had my chance, Now I must suffer, In silence, It is what I deserve, For beginning this, In the first place. I live, terrified, That people may, Discover what I, Keep hidden away. Even if someone, Were to help, I fear they could not, Ever really mend, What is broken, In me. I had a chance to, Make things right, But then I did, Something worse. I don�??t deserve, Their help, I never did, I was not �??sick enough�??. So now I am lost, Floating away, And I must ask myself, do I really matter? Since no one has asked me, In a while, What hides behind, This distant smile. But then I think, It is not right of me, To believe I deserve, For Them to listen, to my silent plea. I am confused, I do not know, What is wrong with me, Or if there is, Nothing wrong at all. Maybe I am moaning, And my moans, Have no depth. Maybe it is all in my head. I believe that must be it, How could I have been ill, If I have all this doubt? For this I believe, If I were to truly, Need help, I would have to begin again. And that I swore I would not do. But it is so tempting, As the label, Would help so greatly, People would no, Longer think I was strange, They would know i had, A proper problem. But then I remember that, Doing that Is a, Physocotic path. Maybe I do need help. No I am making it up again, Can someone help me make it clear? I do not know, What I have done, I feel like it was all a lie. But I know it must, have been true, Because the friend, said she saw it too. If only she, had seen my pain, before it started, and now, quickly, before it gets worse again, I think I know, Now what is wrong, It hurts me, that I was so sad, And my parents did not, See nor touch, The broken mess, That lay so clearly, in their paths. I did everything, To make them realise, That their daughter, Was made of lies. I was not happy. Maybe there were, more pressing concerns, in the world, but surely something, could have been done, to help a girl, as sad as me? I did not, And still do not, Know what I did, Or how it happened, All I know is that, All I needed to prevent it all, Was for someone to, Notice me. |
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