In the unit, you would be surprised.
We're all here for reasons partially unknown,
depression, drugs, anger, eating disorders, suicide attempts.
You see smiles.
You hear laughter.
It's brighter than it should be.
Sometimes that makes us angry, we want to be sick.

We're all past the worst but
breathing
still hurts. It weighs on our minds.
Asking, "Why am I still here?"
Saved.

Playing games, drawing, talking, asking,
Asking, "Who are you? What are you?"
Same.

We're secretly still sad, though we
Lie.
We tell them we're happy,
no thoughts of dying today. Just because
We want to leave.

Eventually we leave, leaving those who we've just met. The society who
Understands
Everything.
Leaving, to be alone again.

You might fine a best friend,
Or an enemy,
Or fall in love.
But then you leave,
Or they do,
And you're worse than
before.