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
Alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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