In the noise,
a blade feels like control,
cutting through the chaos,
a sharp release in skin-deep lines,
till the world finally slows,
till the voices fade,
till the pain finds a new edge.
I know it's wrong,
but right now,
it's the only way to hush the ache,
even if just for a moment.
It won't end me,
but it eases the storm inside,
a quiet in the scream.
I hold on,
not because I want to fall
but because I can't stand to feel
this way much longer.
YOU ARE READING
Trapped in my own head
PoetryShe is an outcast. She finds it easier to express what she feels in the form of writing. Whether it is poems, letters or long texts. These are poems that she writes trying to describe how it feels to live with certain mental health issues, in a worl...
