A profoundly personal piece that begins with a devastating statistic: every 11 minutes someone attempts to “leave the world behind”. The poem explores the crushing internal pressure to be perfect and the fear that asking for help will be met with judgment: “She just wants attention” or “She’s weak”.
The narrative shifts to an anguished address to a loved one who became one of the “thousands” lost. The poem expresses deep regret over not intervening, wishing the person hadn’t followed everything through on their plan. The author is now haunted by the memory, spending every single second thinking of the person who is gone.
- Was it the pressure to be perfect
- even as a kid?
- The pressure to smile
- and say “I’m fine”?
- The pressure to never be a burden?