This is my poem about my life.

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My home is always cold now,

frozen with the things that happen there.

Someday, someway, we're all in denial.

Even at ourselves.

Will we ever move on from these days?

Will they frame the rest of our lives?

Will we ever let go of these days?

Doctor tells me to share what's inside.

I run home and tell the clouded eyes.

They glare at me, they see right through me.

Why does she need it?

What makes her have it?

I'm scared to call her mother anymore.

My love just isn't enough anymore.

My brother got out for three months.

Said it made him feel free.

I wish I could feel free in this.

Said it felt just great.

I can't remember ever feeling like that.

The window pane breaks the faded sunlight.

Can I have it fixed?

I need it more than anything right now.

It's the only thing that saves me from myself anymore.

She closes the curtain.

She says it's too cold.

The weight of the world rests on these shoulders.

A feather could break my load.

How am I supposed to believe in myself,

if I can't even see myself?

How am I supposed to support you,

when I can't even support myself... anymore.

Do I just let you drop?

Do I just let you fall?

Do I hold on for dear life praying to a God you don't believe in?

Do I set you down and walk away?

That's the way it's always been.

Don't look back, you'll feel pain.

Why is it so bad to feel pain,

when you can't feel anything... anymore.

The cold sets in. Have you given up hope?

One mistake, is this the end?

How am I supposed to believe in myself, if you don't believe in me?

Why don't you believe in me... anymore.

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I was 15 years old and my mother is an alcoholic.