Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Myemail Mar 2017
Taken aback by plan
Isolation self inflicted in chaos
Careful resignation of man
Alerting those who betray us

Justified in the mind
Scattering my thoughts in protection
Many appear too kind
Looking out for critical detection

Concerns of words misplaced
The fault finding superior sneer
Expressing disgust and distaste
High minding misuse of fear

Twisting my gut violently
Internally shake to suffer silently
Words abandon lips, mind races
Trapped with their judgemental faces
little red Sep 2014
Blood rushing like wild crazed dogs
to the surface of my skin.
Placing a crimson attitude onto my face,
and a trembling hurricane to my voice.

The oxygen runs thin from my atmosphere,
is this real, or is this outer space?
Canines of the blackest exposure make their way
from my head, down my spine, through my extremities, to my feet.

Crushing eyes from around push me outwards
until I can no longer see what I'm running from.
Screeching, mocking barks echo from within
as prey is made of my insides.

Beneath the supernovas of happiness past
alone I await for the chimes of twelve.
I feel the hounds push against my skin once more,
they have not been fed for a while now.

The time has arrived and yet my sanity still has not;
shadows surround me and make it hard to breathe.
Laughter of hyenas, cries of bloodhounds, howls of wolves,
all disturb what is left of me right to the core.

Colourblind, yet with an eyesight set on the brightest hue of fire,
mongrels of most devilish influence impatiently scratch and claw.
Opening their kennels they climb over each other in a frenzy
down the road of scarlet.

Red sky at night, shepherd's delight? Well then, red sky in the morning
is a sign that the herding dogs from Hell shall give no warning.
Possible trigger warning
Steff Sep 2014
Imagine wanting to say something,
Having so much to say,
But nothing will come out.
You're trapped in your own mind.
It's as if you have stage fright,
And the whole world is a stage,
And you can't speak the lines
That you've rehearsed
Over and over, countless times.

Imagine people telling you
To stop being shy, to talk,
But they don't understand
How real this fear is.

What if you say the wrong things?
What if no one likes you?
Feeling as if they think you're weird,
That they don't want to talk to you.
And it's those fears that trap the words,
Trap all the things you have to say.
It's not easy, it's terrifying.
And no one seems to get it,
This is not just shyness,
This is not antisocial,
It's anxiety, it's a phobia.
And it hurts.
I'm so tired of being told to get over it.

— The End —