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Silverflame Dec 2019
The thought of dying
occupies my mind too often
I'm not okay

The place we go to when we fall asleep
let me stay there forever, please
Because I'm not okay

In the waking hours, I stumble
around in a world of make-believe
I'm still not okay

The darkness is cold but kind
it offers me a place to hide
Can I be okay?

I'm floating around in a straitjacket
on the edge of the universe
I'll never be okay
empire ants Nov 2018
She wore a straitjacket.
It was a tight fit.
Writhing around, she begged for a knife, begged anyone who passed her by.
No one seemed to have more than one glance to throw her way.

This screaming, terrified woman, stumbling through streets and patches of grass,

She yelled for someone to free her. But the most intense emotion she's seen as of late was fear, and fear was an ugly color. She couldn't help but reflect it back.

She found her situation... tragic.

But, one day, someone finally tries to help her.

Taking a knife, this kind stranger begins to cut into this restraint she's found herself in.

And, instead of looking relieved, this woman screams louder, and runs away on broken feet. She runs away as fast as her starving legs could take her.

Because this straitjacket was made of skin.

The pain of metal in her flesh restraint, was unbearable.

Maybe once she's aware of the cycle, she'll push through the pain, to see her arms again...

stargazer May 2018
I am trapped in a straitjacket
Unable to move
I may as well be in a casket

Trying to remember how I got here
Everything is so unclear
I am blindfolded and everything starts to disappear

Out of control
Out of my mind
Out of a soul

I fight against the sleeves
Thrashing, resisting
Trying so hard to leave

Doctors whispering reassuringly
But the words don't reach me
No matter how kindly

In an asylum you don't pay rent
Because you are a slave against your will
Held there just for thinking something different

Not a single letter
No one wants to talk to the insane
No one even thinks you'll ever get better

Then you lose hope in your own recovery
No one else believes it, why should you?
You forget what it is to even be free.


This straitjacket gets no easier to bear
I pull and pull
But it gets no better to wear

— The End —