This poem was born from the worry I felt about my bulimic friend Libby. I don’t know where she is today, but I hope that she is doing so much better.
I didn’t want to be depressed
Or admit it to myself
But now my life seems such a mess
I can’t do anything else
I can’t define my feelings
I don’t quite know what’s wrong
But I’m a bird trapped in a cage
A bird who’s lost its song
I know it should be difficult
Life ain’t an easy ride
But I’m tired and I’m paranoid
And all fucked up inside
Sometimes I want to go home
Or just go somewhere else
To see those that I used to know
Be kinder to myself
I haven’t got big problems
This I can admit
But somehow at the moment
My life just feels like shit
I’m worried for my friend
For whom I should be there
To help her out of a deep, dark hole
To love her and to care
She has the biggest problems
Of anyone I’ve known
She’s depressed and bulimic
This to me she’s shown.
