What am I supposed to be when this chapter ends?
How am I supposed to live with memories turned to sediments?
Growing up, I was supposed to be the golden child.
Growing up, I had the mind of innocence on trial.
Growing up, I was berated to succeed by the troubles that affected me, mom, and dad and I took my place upon the stand to have answers of breaking through before I ever could say “I can”.
Now, I look upon golden locks slowly shading into brown.
Now, I’m a face that the family hasn’t seen in a long while.
Now, I look at my achievements as placeholders because they were never my intention, but they were other’s stepping stone to say “Don’t forget us when you make it!”
So, with greedy hands welcoming me back in, I struggle to keep constants in my life.
I have 2 consistent matters in my life: Depression and Love.
To Depression, I owe you my life because of what you have taken from me: my will, my wants, my desires, and my thoughts.
To Love, I owe you my life for giving me a reflected vision of the future with a loving wife because you give me strength to live with my shackled mind.
I’ve lost friendships.
I’ve lost successes.
I’ve lost family.
I’ve lost me.
As a young king, I’m scared for the next chapter.
As a young king, I know pain that hits harder than the tragedies of commonplace natural disasters.
As a young king, I know that I have a future to risk in order to find my true happiness.
And as a young king, I know I might find myself alone in a room with nothing but a mirror to see what therapy has brought to us.
A young king is a king that doesn’t know what his future holds.
A young king is a king that knows the future isn’t as long as others may hope.
A young king is a king who is always pushing, pushing to see another day come.
I have 2 constants in my life: depression and love.
I’ve told you this before we slept.
I saw a tear run short like the hike we have yet to take.
I saw pain as I spoke to you.
I heard your nightmares, and tried to wake you.
I know how fearful this future will be, so I don’t blame you if you’d care to leave.
I learned from you; joys and pains.
I taught you things; hurt and relief.
I’ll hold us both till my heart can’t heal, and on my last breath I’ll tell you truth and only truth of how glad I was to make you feel.
(Inspired by H.D. and the appreciation I have for the constant, troubling support.)