Rockdale Was My Rock

Context: My dad had my family church-hop a ton when I was younger, which did wonders to my mental health.

I was good, I was fine,

My social interactions kept in line,

I had my friends, I had my foes,

That was when I was younger, though.

As I grew, as I aged,

I lost my friends as I fell in to place.

"We have to leave", my dad would say.

Difficult to keep close who is away

I'd lie I didn't notice, I'd say I didn't care,

But I sobbed knowing that was my last time there.

I lost everything, and every person I ever knew,

At first only once, then another 7 in queue.

Every time it happened, it seemed to hurt less and less

I grew cold, and colder I regressed

"What's even the use of making friends,

When I'm going to lose them by year's end."

I'm not precisely sure you can understand,

I wasn't born an introvert, this wasn't planned.

At first I was quiet by choice, to thin the string when it was cut,

but then I slowly just adapted, and forgot who I was.

I slowly sank further, and further into my mind,

I hated myself, my family, and anyone I could find.

"Hate, Hate Hate, that'll keep them away.

I have to keep absolutely everyone at bay."

I even began blameing my old friends for reasons unknown.

My mental state had peaked, the signs easily shown.

I took up math, computers, comics and more.

Square pegs to fill a triangle hole where friends were meant for.

I'm not sure how to end this, if I'm entirely fair.

Cause this story isn't finished, not nearly half-way-there.

I'm still living it, in every second of every day.

Though, things have gotten better, I must say.

I'm still recovering from the years of isolation.

The years of self-hate and so much frustration.

I'v had my ups and downs, and though the last few years may have been the drop.

I'v got to say, the slope has really been falling off.