Nov 2016
In the end it was the tortured silence that led me to the asylum.
Demons were winning,
I had no power to fight,
They thought I was crazy,
“Send her to an asylum now.”
They’d all turn away as I walked down the hall,
And as soon as I left the whispers would start.
They’d look at my wrists no matter how swiftly I pulled down my sleeves,
And whenever anybody looked at me their eyes held accusations
Rumors, Jokes, Gossips,
Became the daily routine of stabs in my heart,
Sleeves grew longer, hair grew shorter,
Lies became the constant thing, and the truth faded away,
Leaving the constant hum of static.
Heart was broken, nobody cared,
My sobs grew softer as I buried my voice.
I was choking on my words,
And writing them down was the only option left,
One option, no choice.
The gossips grew louder,
It finally wore me down,
They said I felt guilty because I broke his heart,
But, they were all wrong,
He had broken my heart, so I had broken my soul,
The word ‘broken’ became overused.
My laugh became more hopeless than my sobs,
Knife in my hand, positioned at my chest,
My aching heart wasn’t hard to find,
Silence became louder, heart was bruised,
Crushed into pieces no superglue could fix,
Tell me, who’ll be kind enough to **** me now?
Demons were winning,
I had no power to fight,
They thought I was crazy,
“Send her to an asylum now.”
They’d all turn away as I walked down the hall,
And as soon as I left the whispers would start.
They’d look at my wrists no matter how swiftly I pulled down my sleeves,
And whenever anybody looked at me their eyes held accusations
Rumors, Jokes, Gossips,
Became the daily routine of stabs in my heart,
Sleeves grew longer, hair grew shorter,
Lies became the constant thing, and the truth faded away,
Leaving the constant hum of static.
Heart was broken, nobody cared,
My sobs grew softer as I buried my voice.
I was choking on my words,
And writing them down was the only option left,
One option, no choice.
The gossips grew louder,
It finally wore me down,
They said I felt guilty because I broke his heart,
But, they were all wrong,
He had broken my heart, so I had broken my soul,
The word ‘broken’ became overused.
My laugh became more hopeless than my sobs,
Knife in my hand, positioned at my chest,
My aching heart wasn’t hard to find,
Silence became louder, heart was bruised,
Crushed into pieces no superglue could fix,
Tell me, who’ll be kind enough to **** me now?
School *****. High school especially *****.
I’ve got a feeling tht this year time ain’t gonna do much healing.
I’ve got a feeling tht this year time ain’t gonna do much healing.
(16/F/KSA)
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