Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#straitjacket
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
0
Dec 2, 2019
Dec 2, 2019 at 11:34 AM UTC
Not Okay
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... Doubtful.
0
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 4:30 AM UTC
doubtful
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. Alone Forgotten Unknown This straitjacket gets no easier to bear I pull and pull But it gets no better to wear
0
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
Straitjacket