At Twenty (A Poem)

At twenty

I should be a blooming flower,

thriving,

waiting impatiently

for the next day to come.

At twenty,

I should dance like no one is watching,

sing out loud

love unconditionally and passionately,

live like there’s no tomorrow,

I should

want to be here.

At twenty,

a hand should hold mine.

Kisses should be planted,

beds should be shared,

love should be dominating.

Together we should discover the world,

together we should make memories.

Alas at twenty,

I want to fall asleep forever,

I want to disappear,

to never re-appear.

Instead, at twenty,

tears are burning my eyes,

fear of failure controls my life,

food has been the only comfort,

being lonely and alone is dominating.

At twenty,

my creaking bed is empty.

At twenty,

I dream of impossible things.

At twenty,

I am not the person

I thought I would be

when I was sixteen.

At twenty,

I am a laughing stock

for our society.

I am a joke.

At twenty,

I am a bag of flaws,

psychological schemes.

Giving up sounds easy,

perfect.

I’m bored.

I’m alone.

I’m lonely.

I’m hungry.

I’m exhausted

mentally

and

physically.

I want to

I want to drop out.

I want to give up.

I don’t want friends.

I only want sleep

and food.

I feel broken

beyond repair.

And it shouldn’t be like that,

At twenty.