I'll try and write you a poem,
but I don't think it'll be great,
somehow I've lost my touch,
to get words to formulate.
I have tried,
to write a few,
but non have been good.
So this time,
I'll try again:
Running from monsters,
I cannot see,
I hear them scream,
they taunt me.
Their voices echo,
in my head,
telling me,
I'd be better off dead.
I wish I'd,
never been born,
such agony,
I've never experienced before.
I wish for pain,
to drive me closer,
to a decision,
for it to be over.
Their little smirks,
push me,
their laughs are like nails,
piercing me.
So many times,
I want to break skin,
I burned in anger,
fueled from within.
So many times,
I thought of eternal sleep,
some recent,
look what they've done to me.
I try to cloak it,
but it just comes back,
like a scar after,
there's been a gash.
It's funny how,
I can hide my face,
cover it with make up,
to hide this disgrace.
The monsters,
I realize,
aren't a dream,
they are other me's.
I can hide,
my pain with my eyes,
my smile masks,
my many lies.
I just can't accept,
the madness within,
I try to run,
but it will win.
Just give me some pills,
I'll make it go away,
I have no reason,
to stay anyway.
I try to hide thoughts,
through loud playing sons,
but even then,
it hurts us all.
I don't want to speak,
I cringe at the words,
I call myself things,
I still haven't learned.
I miss my nightmares,
its a mad world to me,
I can't try,
I can't escape me.
ZZZ....
Beeeeeep |