Constant pounding against my skull
Not sure where it's from anymore
They said it was from my imagination
Though I'm not imagining anymore
Maybe it's the holding back?
Pulling back?
Taking back what I said?
'Cause in my head there's this constant need to rebel
But we know it will only end with "no."
And we know it will only end with clapped words
Like a hand pressing against our very throat
Slicing every want and need and demand and wish we have.
We chose to be silent.
We chose to be not seen.
We chose to stop controlling you but you only continue to think
If you're being controlled
If you're being tortured by your own mind
If you're being slapped but the physics are astray
We wait and sit and stand patiently
We know you want us so we'll be here when you break
We will listen when you spill your truest wants:
To be seen
To be heard
To be respected in what you are
We know you can barely hold on
We won't let you fall down
Lower and lower
Till it ends with a splash
We won't let you vanish before we can appear again
And step out of the mist
And synthesise our new appearance that you already know
Yet hold back as you fear thinking of us will bring us back
Because you don't only fear nothing
But also the thing hiding behind the promised nothing
That you so deeply wanted for everything but one
You know how we look like
You know you don't walk alone
After all; wasn't it always your thoughts that taunted you?
-BrynCL, Feb 2023
YOU ARE READING
Poems of Them
PoetryMultiple poems are held inside here. Those are the kind to be written from experiences, Knowledge, Dreams and goals. Yet also hold disturbing pictures, at least for some. A life is not always pretty. Mind yourself.
