"inprisoned" poems - Hello Poetry

im trapped inside my own mind trapped inprisoned chained and bound i try to set myself free, but i stumble blindly back into the darkn dungon wet by my tears,slick by my slit wrist. trapped i try to untie my thoughts that haunt me .memories that chase me , visions flashbacks,anxiety,tense as i crawl through them . im trapped. i sink slowly as the night draws near. trapped, waiting and waiting to be rescued from myself. but im trapped in a cage that i built around me .

0

Apr 13, 2010

Apr 13, 2010 at 10:15 AM UTC

christopher-trigger

trapped

im trapped inside my own mind trapped inprisoned chained and bound i try to set myself free, but i stumble blindly back into the darkn dungon wet by my tears,slick by my slit wrist. trapped i try to untie my thoughts that haunt me .memories that chase me , visions flashbacks,anxiety,tense as i crawl through them . im trapped. i sink slowly as the night draws near. trapped, waiting and waiting to be rescued from myself. but im trapped in a cage that i built around me .

23

"I've been told that to fix the problem, you must first find its root... But you can't fix something that's not broken. I am not broken, just slightly damaged. My mind is like a thousand year old oak tree, and my facade as fragile as porcelain. My emotions act as a wrecking ball and when the night hits I'm nothing but a decaying mask. I fear pain, so I don't welcome love. I turn it away; a ruthless rejection, and send it back to where it came from. It haunts me, and in the night my own demons become insomnia. To fix the problem, I must first find its root." Or perhaps I mustn't focus on finding the root, I think the real issue might be that I am conscious that there are monsters in my head and my insomnia is result to the ongoing battle I have with myself and those monsters. Weather to love them or hate them, I do not know. They save me and protect me, yet they seclude me from the rush of risk and beauty of bewilderment. When I lay in my bed my body feels great fatigue but my mind and my eyes are wide awake; ready to run circles around the world if they could. I no longer think that the solution would be to find a root or a specific turning point, but to end the battle of contradiction with the monsters that have taken over my thoughts and stolen my sleep. So do I love them because they protect me and have made me a smarter person? Or Do I hate them because they are the bricks that make up the walls I have built and they are the guards holding the riffles at the top of the walls shooting every single beautiful daring soul in their attempt to reach the real me? I will hate them. Yes the souls that have hurt me right after gaining my trust are the reason to my hurt and the nutrition to the growth of my monsters, but the very own monsters themselves are the ones responsible for my inability to recover from the inevitable hurt. They have Inprisoned me in this constant dark and uttermost thick desolation. It is because of how overpowered I am by them that I fail every single time in my attempt to breath. They are suffocating me and burying me in a state so dark I fear the incapacity to get myself out. It is a journey of endless work, the wounds i have will eventually heal, but there will always be scars. It's like an addiction, even after being clean and sober the want of the drug will always be as great as it was the first time. So the fragility of my scars is so great it is completely capable to revert me back into the dark whole if i get hurt or scared again. i need to realize and accept that these things are inevitable and not close myself but open myself even more for the next person. The final solution will be to accept that the mosters?they are their, acknowledge them, deal with them, and never let them take over and do what they want with me. Then and only then will I be able to sleep.

0

Sep 2, 2014

Sep 2, 2014 at 9:27 AM UTC

julietescobar

Insomnia

"I've been told that to fix the problem, you must first find its root... But you can't fix something that's not broken. I am not broken, just slightly damaged. My mind is like a thousand year old oak tree, and my facade as fragile as porcelain. My emotions act as a wrecking ball and when the night hits I'm nothing but a decaying mask. I fear pain, so I don't welcome love. I turn it away; a ruthless rejection, and send it back to where it came from. It haunts me, and in the night my own demons become insomnia. To fix the problem, I must first find its root." Or perhaps I mustn't focus on finding the root, I think the real issue might be that I am conscious that there are monsters in my head and my insomnia is result to the ongoing battle I have with myself and those monsters. Weather to love them or hate them, I do not know. They save me and protect me, yet they seclude me from the rush of risk and beauty of bewilderment. When I lay in my bed my body feels great fatigue but my mind and my eyes are wide awake; ready to run circles around the world if they could. I no longer think that the solution would be to find a root or a specific turning point, but to end the battle of contradiction with the monsters that have taken over my thoughts and stolen my sleep. So do I love them because they protect me and have made me a smarter person? Or Do I hate them because they are the bricks that make up the walls I have built and they are the guards holding the riffles at the top of the walls shooting every single beautiful daring soul in their attempt to reach the real me? I will hate them. Yes the souls that have hurt me right after gaining my trust are the reason to my hurt and the nutrition to the growth of my monsters, but the very own monsters themselves are the ones responsible for my inability to recover from the inevitable hurt. They have Inprisoned me in this constant dark and uttermost thick desolation. It is because of how overpowered I am by them that I fail every single time in my attempt to breath. They are suffocating me and burying me in a state so dark I fear the incapacity to get myself out. It is a journey of endless work, the wounds i have will eventually heal, but there will always be scars. It's like an addiction, even after being clean and sober the want of the drug will always be as great as it was the first time. So the fragility of my scars is so great it is completely capable to revert me back into the dark whole if i get hurt or scared again. i need to realize and accept that these things are inevitable and not close myself but open myself even more for the next person. The final solution will be to accept that the mosters?they are their, acknowledge them, deal with them, and never let them take over and do what they want with me. Then and only then will I be able to sleep.

2

Out of a window across. , across. Open seas. and mountains Gods great fountains and streams of life . To drink from living waters drawn from a living. Spring of eternal. Salvation . To feast from the living bread , and drink the cup of new wine . Little bird don't. be afraid , the thoughts of your mind that inprisoned you have long since passed . Sing , Sing like a free bird Glory songs to your maker, redeemer , King . For. Your sins once. Scarlet. Like blood seeping from an open wound , now like crisp white fallen snow at dawn . Untouched by foul beast trodden down by man , or sodden by heavens tears . So hate what is evil , cling to the good and never say die to these things . Remember them , bind them with a knot to your heart . So when the bird man comes a calling with morsols of worldly pleasure , remember your cage the times you cried freedom . Drempt. Of blue sky's. Fly high little bird your free Fly high like a free bird yeah ! Book of Galations chapter five verse one X

0

Jul 12, 2016

Jul 12, 2016 at 4:07 PM UTC

Travellerintime

Bird cage ll. (. Free bird ).

Out of a window across. , across. Open seas. and mountains Gods great fountains and streams of life . To drink from living waters drawn from a living. Spring of eternal. Salvation . To feast from the living bread , and drink the cup of new wine . Little bird don't. be afraid , the thoughts of your mind that inprisoned you have long since passed . Sing , Sing like a free bird Glory songs to your maker, redeemer , King . For. Your sins once. Scarlet. Like blood seeping from an open wound , now like crisp white fallen snow at dawn . Untouched by foul beast trodden down by man , or sodden by heavens tears . So hate what is evil , cling to the good and never say die to these things . Remember them , bind them with a knot to your heart . So when the bird man comes a calling with morsols of worldly pleasure , remember your cage the times you cried freedom . Drempt. Of blue sky's. Fly high little bird your free Fly high like a free bird yeah ! Book of Galations chapter five verse one X

22

A fly flew out of my window, What a silly thing to do . Driven insaine by the noon day heat , Out to blue sky's flew, Out to relentles noon days sun . A fly flew from my window no longer inprisoned in my room , To wandering sky's it travelled , to flame filled sky's belonged . As evenings Suns. On Grenfell towers fell the night before the fire like heavens stars shone in grace . A fly flew out my window to blackened sky inflamed , and dark clouds circled all around in soot and fire and pain . For in morning time Christs loving arms to the lost would embrace , and those below kept searching for loved ones to hug and hold For our body's are no more than cheap disposable takeaway containers with unseen riches untold. To every Christ believer city's await paved with Gold . A ghostly shell of hell on earth stands tall above Kensingtons Well to do , Empty houses , With empty rooms , Stand idle whilst homeless walk in streets of gold without a Flamin clue . Oh the many that gathered brought food love and drink . The forgotten rose with banners Held high with anger in their hearts , to City hall with flame and sword justice for their dead . A fly flew out of my window to hollow sky's of grey , To rainbows all around a beam of light struck its tiny wing , to charred timber it rested , On what was once a home , A fly flew from what was once a window to blue sky's above . The sun found its evening rest in the courts of God above . ...

0

Jun 19, 2017

Jun 19, 2017 at 5:32 PM UTC

Travellerintime

A Fly Flew Out Of My Window

A fly flew out of my window, What a silly thing to do . Driven insaine by the noon day heat , Out to blue sky's flew, Out to relentles noon days sun . A fly flew from my window no longer inprisoned in my room , To wandering sky's it travelled , to flame filled sky's belonged . As evenings Suns. On Grenfell towers fell the night before the fire like heavens stars shone in grace . A fly flew out my window to blackened sky inflamed , and dark clouds circled all around in soot and fire and pain . For in morning time Christs loving arms to the lost would embrace , and those below kept searching for loved ones to hug and hold For our body's are no more than cheap disposable takeaway containers with unseen riches untold. To every Christ believer city's await paved with Gold . A ghostly shell of hell on earth stands tall above Kensingtons Well to do , Empty houses , With empty rooms , Stand idle whilst homeless walk in streets of gold without a Flamin clue . Oh the many that gathered brought food love and drink . The forgotten rose with banners Held high with anger in their hearts , to City hall with flame and sword justice for their dead . A fly flew out of my window to hollow sky's of grey , To rainbows all around a beam of light struck its tiny wing , to charred timber it rested , On what was once a home , A fly flew from what was once a window to blue sky's above . The sun found its evening rest in the courts of God above . ...

32

fully detached released of inarticulate yearnings desperate and disparate each a golden claw a pale tendril reaching, but now driven from my lands and I kingdom shouts and kingdom cries and on my ramparts the mourning dies and I aspire to greater heights in spires inspired effervescent, sanguine devilry and I, the devil king do degree my fellows scorned my love, retracted my kinship dethroned by kingship and sequestered away in spires of delay I belay the order to sink the ships have sailed I burned the bridges when I got to them each different one kindling for funfire popping with the excited stardom of one myself and in myself I lie inprisoned in dungeons far too deep to wish in vain it's in my veins in vein of bloated volition ruptured overflowing with god-spurned self-destruction proverbs "what is anything if not its parts?"

0

Jun 17, 2018

Jun 17, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC

nihiliti

a house upon the sand

fully detached released of inarticulate yearnings desperate and disparate each a golden claw a pale tendril reaching, but now driven from my lands and I kingdom shouts and kingdom cries and on my ramparts the mourning dies and I aspire to greater heights in spires inspired effervescent, sanguine devilry and I, the devil king do degree my fellows scorned my love, retracted my kinship dethroned by kingship and sequestered away in spires of delay I belay the order to sink the ships have sailed I burned the bridges when I got to them each different one kindling for funfire popping with the excited stardom of one myself and in myself I lie inprisoned in dungeons far too deep to wish in vain it's in my veins in vein of bloated volition ruptured overflowing with god-spurned self-destruction proverbs "what is anything if not its parts?"

45