*Disclaimer
I talk about self harm *
It's 1984 but big brother doesn't seem to be controlling me yet.
I have control over my mind but my mind no longer wants to be controlled by me.
I am fighting for my mind but if I lose it I will never get it back.
It's not 1984 but I am still forced into my own 2 minutes of hate.
Except the 2 minutes can last for hours.
My 2 minutes of hate where my body is overcome by the content of my mind and life.
My 2 minutes of hate comes when it wants.
It is not scheduled.
It is not planned.
It comes when it wants and only leaves once I have broken.
Once the marks on my soul appear on my body it finally begins to fade.
But it never truly leaves.
The crushing of my chest simply subsides to the gentle suffocation of my heart.
My minds hatred of me is small.
My mind tolerates me and my body.
It's my life that my mind hates.
To be forced to lock myself away in my room in order to have a glimpse of life outside the system of suppression.
Into what life really is.
What freedom is.
And how I am forced to wait patiently in order to have a chance.
A chance at a real life.
But my soul struggles.
She struggles to wait for what she should already have.
She calls for change but when change does not happen she hurts.
She puts my mind through a cycle of torment.
As my mind begins the panic of the 2 minute hate my soul begs to be free and the panic will stop.
You see I cannot free my soul.
I hope I will be able to one day.
So as my soul and mind begin to boil over with ignored and suppressed emotions they allow my body to become to casualty of their escape.
As they allow myself to release my emotions I catch my blood with toilet paper as it flows from my hips and thigh.
And with each slice of my skin the chains around my soul loosen and o can breath.
It's 1984 but all I want is for my emotions to go away.
1984 is a really good book and you should definitely read it. I mad a bunch of references to it in this poem so if u haven't read the book u may not understand.
My instagram- fucked_up_teens_poetry
Picture credit - dullfragments
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Fucked up teens poetry
PoetryI go through shit in my life and then turn it into metaphors to help me make sense of it and sometimes I share. I honestly started this when I was in a bad place. I want everyone to know there is hope and it DOES get better. All but the last poem wh...
