The wind is trying to ruffle my mind,

The voices whispering since I arrived,

Trying to blow me off my path,

Asking “how long will I last?”

Until I see things their way.

The thorns are digging deep into my skin,

The poison ivy is trying to make me flinch,

I wish to choose my own grave,

My own life, my own fate—

I swear it won’t be a waste.

I know they long for the best of me,

But can they let my own hands be complete?,

I know they will forever keep pestering,

Until it’s their world, I’m entering.

-

This is a (slight) vent poem, so ignore that.

I wanted to add more but it's kinda personal lol :)