I've fallen down, I'm on my knees,
And everyone is laughing now.
There's blood and boils, I'm diseased,
The gods are watching, judging, how
Could I endure this vile test?
My family have all but left,
Up in a storm they went away, to Oz,
The havens look so grey.
And grey is the colour of my heart inside,
"That is if I had a heart", replied,
My emptiness to tin men laughing,
My cavity is over marking,
Everything that could go wrong,
And all the things that are to come.
A morbid boy I have become,
My three comforters are defunct,
They probe and pull me every way,
They leave me bloodied and waylaid.
And now I'm on the floor so sweet,
I lean upon my knees and weep,
For all the things that haven't come,
I gouge my brain out with my thumb.
And turn a blind eye to this pain,
The only way I can remain,
Indisposed to mental chains.
Why can't I leave this sad domain?
Drowning under cellophane,
I can escape but choose to stay.
I guess I like feeling this way.
YOU ARE READING
Stoneheart
PoezjaA collection of poems about my coming of age, family and identity struggles and my battle with anxiety and depression as a youth.
