Letters and Poems

23: Burried and I want out

I'm buried in my mind,
6 feet under and dead inside my head.

Just a little boy I used to be
Trying to find a way out of me

The pain,
The strain.

I want it to stop.

The concrete looks at me longingly,
As people yell at me, taungingly

The pills filling my body,
My mind is all foggy.

The longing of someone to answer,
And yet no responder.

I want this to stop.
The thoughts, the pain, the anguish.

I need a break,
Of all this heartache.

The attack of me and myself.
The scars showing,
The cuts that are not going.

The harm and pain I cause.
Just to feel the satisfaction they make.

I fear the thoughts,
The toxic replies my mind gives to me.

No one cares.
Why should they?

I'm just a single person of 8 billion.

Just wasting
Praying

Thinking on what I used to be
What's hurting me.
The dreams all haunting me.

I'm my own worst enemy,
Just another casualty.

They have me in the worst way,
Yet you have me in the best way.

Have I fulfilled your depest desire?
The deepest longing you had?

I have no words,
They say its absurd.
I float along this stream of thoughts, leaving them unsaid,
Choosing not to cast them out,
Let's leave it she said.

The therapist not helping,
Choosing to be uncaring.

Will my thoughts be proufound enough?
Will they outdo the words of others,
Maybe I should just stay quiet.

I shatter,
The more I get higher.

I just don't understand it.
Suffocated by all the doubt in my mind.
Clouded with visions of my death in my head.

And yet I smile,
Smile at the smallest relief I'd get.

I'm just skin and bones.
Hoping to starve myself to death.
To satisfy this hunger I have.

I'm just tired,
I tell myself.
I try to be kinder.
Yet I can't do that to myself.

It all shall end,
They said.
How, they have not shared.
Yet I shall take my own end.