... And scared my English teacher.

**Note: a sonnet is a type of poem with 14 lines, 10 syllables per line and a rhyme scheme of ABABCD CDEFEFGG**

You heard me right. I scared my teacher by writing a poem. We're reading Romeo and Juliet, and we were discussing as a class all of the goddamn sonnets in it. My teacher then decided to assign us to write our own sonnets over whatever the hell we wanted. Topics varied widely amongst the class and it was kind of hilarious.

I wrote mine and turned it in, you know, as you do. I get it returned with a comment on the bottom reading: "This sonnet hurts my heart. Is it autobiographical?"

This might sound weird until you read the sonnet itself, but the topic I chose was depression because it was something I had been thinking about a lot at the time and it was a focal point in my life.

Anyway, here it is:

My life is good, it's really not that bad
My smile holds the pain of thousand tears
Many friends do I have, my fair comrade
But they cannot hold back my thousand fears
I know for sure my friends will not betray
But on my own, I cannot help degrade
I know not why my heart hurts in this way
But from this hate my mind cannot be strayed
The pain in my head cannot break my shield
But pressure comes and caves my fortress in
Authority declares my mind is healed
But they know not for dead drop from my chin
If only someone out there could see me
And break these chains to set my spirit free

I'm not entirely sure if I stuck to the topic, but oh well. It was word vomit and apparently good enough for a 100, so I wasn't worried. I get it back and my teacher calls me up to their desk after class.

I head up and they were like, "do you want to go talk to the counselor?"

And I was like, "no?"

And they said, "are you sure? Because your sonnet sounded like you have personal experience with this?"

And I didn't know what to say. Do I tell them that it's just teenage angst bullshit? That I had been reading too many depressing-ass fanfics? The truth about my thought processes, because even I don't know that? I ended up just saying that I was fine and if I felt pressured, then I would talk to them, and went to my next class.

It was so awkward, oh my god...

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed my shitty attempt at poetry up there. On an off-chance, could any of y'all tell me if I got anything right or close? That's how I always interpreted depression, mine has never been that bad so I don't know if that was accurate or not.

See ya... Bye