I'm in my place.
A tiny space I've claimed for myself.

Though I share this spot,
right now it's mine.

With the door latched shut,
I leave the disorderly world,
just an arm-span away.

In my makeshift asylum,
I still hear calls from the outside.
Beckoning and inviting me into
the unrelenting foray...
Pointless skirmishes,
and mistimed altercations.

When all I want is...
To be alone; be empty
and devoid of unruly thoughts in my husk.
Because in the rare silence,
I desperately seek peace.

Peace with my past.
Peace with myself.
So I don't eat myself whole.
Because my world still needs me.

.
I'm slipping...

Winds from the past had blown hard.
Heavy clouds have returned.
Bearing gifts of broken shards,
memories discarded and mementos burnt.

I'm falling...

Footfalls fail as they sink in clay.
Fingers tremble as they grab at nothing.
The words are lost and the voice couldn't say.
The pills seem to have stopped working.

I'm regressing...

Into an all familiar territory.
A place I thought I had left far behind.
But I feel reconnected to a mirrored me.
The part I've missed since a new state of mind.

.

I am the poetry that breathes words into your mind.
I fill up blank spaces with encouraging lines.
I possess no magic powers to turn back time.

I am the poetry that brings back childhood fears.
I speak the truths you're not sure you wanna hear.
I clarify emotions that were previously unclear.

I am the poetry that digs deep to tear at the soul.
Once I enter you, you can never be whole.
Without the words inside you, you feel so cold.

I am the poetry that tries to hold back time.
Keep the body frozen but activate the mind.
Using line after line to make you all mine.

I am the poetry that flows through your veins.
That proves how much I love you, day after day.
I help keep your sanity, when you think you're going insane.

I am the poetry that floats in front of your eyes.
Always surrounding you, seeing through your every disguise.
I know everything you think, I know all your lies.

I am the poetry until the day you die.

there's a special grace about the way it flows
in and around, back again
with a certain sound, there it goes
twisting through to the end

There's an aching in my bones for where that feeling they call home used to be but now it's only in my dreams.
My emotions keeps grinding away at my soul, telling me where to go and who to be.
But that's not me and this dream isn't my reality.
As far fetched as my hopes may seem to be, to me they are the reality supressing these nightmares that everyone else calls dreams.

Keep hoping for a new tomorrow to change my ways, but the days drag on, always the same.
Not knowing where the truth lies, disguised as a ride that takes you high enough to never feel it when the lie dies.
Staring pain in the face, wasting days swept under a carpet of disgrace, eyes staring back screaming with disdain.
Forgetting myself more with every breath, failing every test and silently waiting for death.