I lie awake in my bed,
the pillows my gates,
shutting out the world.
My blankets are my protectors,
the darkness my shield.
I scream in a house full of people,
nobody hears me,
but my body does,
my thoughts do,
my fingers grasp blindly,
finding a pen.
My hands dance across the paper,
in swift, hurried motions,
as I bleed onto this paper,
I bleed words,
filled to the brim with pain, sorrow.
It's here in the darkness I can bleed freely.
The darkness understands.
The darkness hears my screams.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
I lie awake in my bed,
the pillows my gates,
shutting out the world.
My blankets are my protectors,
the darkness my shield.
I scream in a house full of people,
nobody hears me,
but my body does,
my thoughts do,
my fingers grasp blindly,
finding a pen.
My hands dance across the paper,
in swift, hurried motions,
as I bleed onto this paper,
I bleed words,
filled to the brim with pain, sorrow.
It's here in the darkness I can bleed freely.
The darkness understands.
The darkness hears my screams.
