Phase

I thought it was a phase when I told my dean at my school that last year I still feel the same.The moods won't go away it won't matter who I tell because they won't understand. Understand my plea is not coming from mouth ,but from my smiles my laugh and everything happy.  Happiness is my scream of help please help ,but no one can hear. Why? Because your stuck under the ocean. You cry ,but the roar of others drown you out.  This world does not envy the broken ,but the perfect. They pull you down they bury you under and let you pick yourself up. This is not a phase don't tell me it phase a phase is a few days a phase is not year when everything is still not crystal clear. I can not pick myself back up when other don't hear my cries. Don't dare tell me this phase again I want to smile and be happy ,but my mind dose not let my heart think for itself. The sun is cloudy and the world always grey. You wonder in a few days will so call phase disappear your mind says words your heart will want to break this phase is never ending bully that still goes on even when you're asleep. The pain hides itself as phase so others will turn away while you're crying your pleas and letting your smiles be deceptive things. Look right here this phase is me ,but I will not let it determine how people see me. This is not a phases this pain ,but pain turns to wounds and wounds turn to scars and then they fade. This is why this pain has to fade. Everything fades and if scars may then maybe even long term pain.