Pensive Melancholy

Fiona, 16, South Africa

I’ve sailed the seven oceans
Tried and tested every wine
I’ve bathed in your profundity
Fallen hard for every line

Chasing the demons from your sleep
While bemused by your apathy
Freezing your tears
Redeeming the years
For which you showed no sympathy

And now as I lie awake
Doused with cyanide
I muse over this fake diagnosis
Bury my neurosis underneath

Falling into spaces
Without your promised reach
Chocking on these phases
But now I cannot breech
It’s too late to realise
This hatred has become my fate