Psychological Trauma
Stress piles on top of me
Like extra snow on an evergreen tree
Slowly dissolving like sugar in water
But never too fast for the eye to see.
In this empty place I reside
Pacing back and forth
Side to side
Contemplating whether not I'll be fine
What am I to do with thee
As stress piles on top of me.
Lying to myself keeps me going
No other way to keep me flowing
I struggle to keep my spirits afloat
Having to be held in a carry on tote.
All I can do is wait for you
My former soul, body, and mind
My brain has been stripped of its rind
For now I sit whilst wasting my time
With futile attempts of feeling just fine.
Feintly falling filled with despair
As my mind is ripped out from beneath my hair
The world goes on, happy and pleased
With sweet release, my soul is appeased.
YOU ARE READING
Psychological Trauma
PoetryA poem I wrote in 7th grade that my English teacher loved👌
