Lost or Found?


If I was lost in the forest

In the middle of the night

Would I build myself a fire

Or would I die of fright?

Would I need to be rescued?

Or would I be brave?

Brave enough to find shelter from the wind and the rain?

Would I think to wait for the light to guide my way?

Or would I think “Fuck it”

“I’ll pick my skin today”?

You see, my forest is my depression

A crowded, over run jungle

Of branches, leaves and ditches

Where I trip and I stumble

So, how comes in a forest I can see the wood from the trees,

but in my mind I’ve twisted my ankle and I’m being stung by bees?


Written by Natasha Bailie


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