Emotional cancer that grows and grows,
Parasitic sadness that eats away at the soul.
A spiral spinning out of control,
Breaks in the madness fade to reveal more holes.

It's in the blood, bones, and brain.
In the heart this pain is contained,
Leaking its poisons slowly and surely.
There is no way to cure this fully.

What is happiness? What is Joy?
When the darkness invades the answers are destroyed.
Blurry vision hides all the solutions,
Contaminated body feels like nothing but pollutions.

©S.T. '16
Picture taken of me, by me

Untitled- Aug. 2016

I may go back and give this poem an official name later, but until then…

Untitled – Aug. 2016

Laying in this dark room corner,
I’m aware of my mental disorder
Of always feeling completely

It is a trick, I know of this,
Yet inside my brain there is a tick
Gnawing away at

So down I spiral deeper in
This depressing hole inside my soul
While I pretend I am not

Do they see? Those around me,
Can they focus their vision rightly,
In time to save me from this

Laying in this dark room corner,
I am eaten by mental disorder.
Parasites, they nibble on my

It is a trick, I know of this,
But still I fail to silence the tick
Gnawing away at

So here I go, still on the fall
While I pretend that life’s a ball.
Maybe I’ll be ok
After all.

©S.T. Aug. 14, 16

The Heap

I chose this poem for my first post under Lost In Words because I still feel the emotion that went into it. I remember writing it, and the struggle I felt with trying to get out all these things that were buried in me.

The Heap

The rocks in my stomach 
Threaten to come up somehow,
And I know I can't stop the pain.

The pressure builds in my core,
The weight of it crushing my pit,
And I don't know if I can handle all of it.

The rocks, I feel, tare up my throat
The jagged edges making me choke,
And I know I will never speak again.

There's blood rushing out of the tares,
The liquid blocking my air.
I know I won't survive...

This devastation -
This absolute loss of salvation.
I can only see the darkness,
For I am completely blinded by this.

The rocks fall out of my mouth and onto the floor,
There seems to be nothing but more
And I crumble in the pile of my mess.

There is nothing left of me.
Turned inside out by what was buried in me, 
I'm now just a part of the heap.

©S.T. Jun. 26, 13