Walk The Line

337 34 34
                                    

Picture a room. Filled with meaningless connotations and impending doom
No furniture sitting above the bare floor,
No openings or exits - not even a door
You open your mouth to shout but nothing comes out
Six feet underground, no one else hears the sound
Of your silent screaming.

This is where you remain, forced to endure the pain
Of being so alone when everyone else thinks you're right next to them having fun
Fun. Because when you look at me I'm smiling but when you turn around I'm dying
To keep up with this generation's normalisation of humans not having emotion
Always being okay. I am not okay. We are not okay.

You see, when I say 'we' I might just mean me.
But I could also mean he - he, me and she, we are all still the same. It's not just a game
One in four young Australians of our population deals with the condemnation of a brain that is a villain to it's own head. And sometimes we'd rather be dead.
To put that in simple terms, sometimes the pain someone is feeling gets to an extent where they can't take it any longer
Where they prefer death over this reign of life
They prefer nothing because they can't see the end to their pain and their strife

How hard it is to keep going on, when the very walls you lean upon
Only stay standing based on the pure defiance of your mind's compliance
To the high expectations of your own frustrations
When the observations and examinations of conversations get out of hand

Picture a room. Filled with senseless connotations and all-surrounding doom
I am scared of my own ceiling, afraid of my own mind
Missing from the unconfined span of humankind
Help me.
Don't help me.
Leave me alone, I'm fine.
Please save me from this hell I'm in; teach me to walk the line.

"The only difference between life and dying is one is trying..." -Twenty One Pilots (Lovely)

Poetic InsanityWhere stories live. Discover now