There was a dark corner in the bedroom

That she often slipped into to

She could never remember

How it felt

kept coming back to write

letters in her notebook

For herself when she left

But some things aren't enough.

She contemplated thoughts

And shut them down

Bordering between depression

And a perfectly happy life

Not enough of one

To not be enough of the other.

Months passed

She found the notebook and

Paged through the parchment

Staring in horror at

Penciled words

And wondering how

She had reached such a place

When everything was so

Good now.

Now she had friends

And a family she knew cared

And teachers who

Loved her

And all of a sudden

She was comforting someone else

Who had slipped into

A dark corner in his bedroom.

It'll all be okay. It'll all get better. I promise.