There's a place in my house that triggers every painful thing--making me vulnerable.
This place is mine with memories of being alone with tears and blankets hugging me at 12 Midnight.
It is dark and blurry, with cold walls and heavy ceilings.
It is wide yet small, making you feel claustrophobic in an imaginable way that would suffocate you until you ask for help.
My place will close all doors automatically when you start screaming, until you loose your voice and lay in bed.
My bed is hollow, it will give you comfort but will drown you in different thoughts you aren't assure of.
Hug my pillow, and it will make you feel every rejection you experienced in your life, thrice painful as it is.
And when it happens to you at the same time, give up.
Because that's what all they want to stop.
You have to give up.
YOU ARE READING
The Darkness That Conquers Me
PoesíaSome people may not understand the content and some may relate. I want people to know that this is common and might eat you alive. They say when you know you're being a victim, seek help. But it's not everytime that people will help people.
