Why do young people feel broken? Why, when we’ve been given every advantage, tailed to the standard, brushed and washed in the river of privilege care to bother with fear?

Life is so indiscriminate, basing emotions off chemical rather than wealth, regardless of position and creed, how beautiful we may look to the other, still cry at night. 

I dance with the devil in my mind often, find comfort in her ways, breaking through the shallows when we lift off into the sky and into a tomorrow full of apathy and depression. So deep and dark it makes me wonder how more people don’t set camp up in her wings, paint murals in her image, sleep with her until 3:00 in the afternoon alone and tired and bored. Of a world where a teenager can be given every advantage, tailed to every damn standard, and still feel the horrors of a life un-lived. 

I’ve lived my life to what it’s been known to be, of school days and going out to eat and anxiety at a party. I’ve lived my life counter to what I’ve seen on a screen, of fireworks and breakthroughs and kissing under a moon lit tree. I’ve seen what I’ve failed to see through the closed door in my mind, where thoughts linger unkept and washed over with the question, what does it mean to feel alive? 

Maybe a cycle unable to see through it, maybe a cycle unique to me, though I doubt I’ve been special to this jail sentence. Run and jump over they say, but my eyes are tapped shut and don’t you think if I could just I would’ve? Too stuck to the ground, to loose to bend over, only seeing the other side of humanity through my twisted dreams. Where is the party where the happy people go? Is it just one pace behind me, over the mountain and then I’ll see. But I’ve only spoken one language in my life, I’m scared and I don’t want to learn a new speech.