Poetry/writing is the only way I seem to be able to express myself. This was one of the first poems I wrote... like a year ago but it is my resounding favourite. Not entirely sure it is good at all but I thought it might be theraputic to post.
A never-ending crack, split open at the core.
Ever expanding, it’s an eyesore.
It finds me, it finds me, there is no where to hide.
It deepens, it widens, I fall inside.
Now I am falling, forever and ever.
I’m trapped, helpless and falling wherever
Wherever it chooses to take me.
There is no way out of this bottomless pit.
The darkness consumes me, no candle is lit.
So I scream and scream; loud and clear
I hope someone hears me, I hope someone is near.
I know the reason, this must be me.
What is my problem? Just let me be!
Leave me alone, stop hating me.
Suffocation, suffocation pulsating through.
I am drowning, drowning, dying too.
It seeps out of me; there is nothing I can do.
Dying in a pool of my own worthlessness and soon
I will be a statistic, nothing but a memory.
Written about, talked about, the past, history.
History rewritten: I’m just a story.
