Haunted by the ghost
of the girl who once lived there,
The Room was a graveyard
of her bottomless despair.
Funnily enough,
The Room once kept her alive.
She couldn’t let them see her secrets;
she must survive.
......
His teacher thinks he should write poems
but he missed the last bus and
don’t know what to say
And he spoke to her for the first time in a year
but she didn’t ask him any questions
so he peeled his orange skin
And the pictures kept falling down
so he kept putting them back up
but they ripped a little more each time
And he started going to sleep without them
......
I’ve got so many voices inside my head,
my Schizophrenia’s keeping them fed,
I’m starting to feel lost within myself,
think I’m turning into someone else.
I’m always planning my escape,
before my brain can escalate.
“I can’t find it,
......
Distressing thoughts
that cut into life’s flow,
Are piercing through
the everyday pauses.
Coming on abruptly incongruent,
Feeling so extrinsic and unforeseen,
Their circuits loop around insistently.
As the thoughts intensify,
......
Why am I invisible to everyone.
No one looks at me.
No one approaches me.
I have to initiate every conversation.
My “friends” never talk to me unless I do first.
Why does no one check on me.
I suffer in silence hoping someone will hear my cries.
I sit in the background hoping someone will see me.
But no one does.
I just want to feel wanted.
......
It seems I don't know quite how to respond,
To the pain present, within and beyond,
So, my subconscious defaults to the lead,
With habitual patterns, I proceed…
Reliant on instincts and emotions,
These primal pathways take me through motions,
Now I’m acting rash, values misaligned,
Hurting loved ones in this stressed frame of mind,
All because I’m unable to pacify,
My cortex, drenched in stimuli.
......
His teacher thinks he should write poems
but he missed the last bus and
don’t know what to say
And he spoke to her for the first time in a year
but she didn’t ask him any questions
so he peeled his orange skin
And the pictures kept falling down
so he kept putting them back up
but they ripped a little more each time
And he started going to sleep without them
......
Lifeless, tasteless, emotionless.
A world without color.
No will to survive.
A shell of the man I once was.
Going through the motions everyday.
A machine without a purpose.
No will, no drive, just endless mechanical movement.
That which I used to strive for seems pointless.
Entertaining hobbies have become nothing more than dull habits.
Nothing to look forward to.
......
The days are long and hard.
They drain every drop of energy in me.
During that ride home I feel so empty, lifeless.
People, Voices, Faces in the crowds.
It’s all too much. Too much stimulation.
Too many worries.
Too much anxiety.
They’re all looking at me.
They’re all talking about me.
They’re all judging me.
......
“You’re not alone” they say.
They’re all here for me they say.
My teachers, my friends, my family.
They’re here for me.
They’re all supporting me.
But if that’s true then why do I still feel so alone.
Why do I still have to cry alone.
But they’re here for me right ?
So why don’t they see that I’m suffering.
Why can’t they hear my cries at night.
......