Why Can't You See?

Tris Eaton

Hey mom

I. Am. Anxious.


Are you sure?

I think you might just WANT

Something to be wrong with you


Hey dad

I. Am. Depressed.


Are you sure?

You LAUGH an awful lot

To be depressed


Oh... I don’t know

What do I know?

I mean..


It’s not like I cry in my bedroom every other night

It’s not like I don’t eat because my stomach hurts from being in a knot

It’s not like I feel useless all the time

It’s not like I feel like I’m not good enough

It’s not like I’m dying on the inside..




Do I have to take you back in time?

Show you everything I’ve done

Listen to me screaming at God to help me

Watch me hate myself for being anything less than “perfect”

Or... wait... that last one is still happening right now... 


Would you like the present then?

Me right now.

The me writing this poem

Wanting you to listen

While I try to scream

But get ignored


The present me

That is terrified of herself

Terrified of what goes on in her own mind

But at the same time

I don’t need help...




  • Author: Tris Eaton (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 24th, 2017 15:16
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 22
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  • Gary Edward Geraci

    Most definitely, your writing, will prove to be a form of therapy when it seems no-one else is listening. Should more serious symptoms present check out NAMI USA’s free online resources.

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