Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2017
Every time I wake up, I open my eyes.
I scan my room seeing it fills with my stuff;
my guitars, my desk, my mirror, my books...my pain..

Locked door, shut windows, absence of lights.

As I scan through this sad dark room with trapped air from
days ago gasping for freshness while I was fine with
carbon monoxide filling my room every single day.

I feel safe when I'm in my room.
I feel safer when I lock the door to my room.
And I feel even more safer when I turn off the ******* lights of my room.

I'm not alone.. No. I have people. People in my room.
They are shadows and darkness and they try to be my friends.
I rejected them. I rejected them since the first time I met them.
But when things are falling and my ground is shaky,
They come scrambling for me and tell me this is the time when they come in handy.

I hate myself. I punish myself.
I punish myself because I let them in.
I let them control me.

My room is like a dead party.
When I leave,
my room literally becomes empty.
When I storm back in,
They were waiting, stretching their ugly, rotten, dark, arms
to grab me and my poor ******* soul.
******* on my energy, my happiness, my only source of joy
out from my mind, my body and my soul making me feel
so ******* tired.

And when I am tired,
I lie.
I lie on my bed
Feeling half dead
as I bury my face on my pillow, sad.
I try to sleep..

But I can't. I can't ******* sleep not even a minute.
Not even a second. Not even when my brain begs for a little rest.
I am so sorry brain but I don't know how to make it stop.

And I wonder and keep on wondering,
My room needs help.. or maybe I need help?
Contains ****** language.
Jen
Written by
Jen  20/F/Borneo
(20/F/Borneo)   
326
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems