Trapped

 

Trapped

A mannequin of silence

I never knew a room could

Be so constricting, so small.

I haven’t eaten in days,

My stomach hurts like hell

I feel drained, worthless

I have nowhere to go

No one to lean on

No hopes

No dreams

I’m losing blood fast;

A puddle of crimson

Pooling all around me

My vision is faltering now

The world is turning black

I can’t hold on

I lay on the cold, smooth floor

My eyes sliding shut

I drift into a deep,

Deep, peaceful sleep,

Finally relieved.

Author's Note

Free verse. Just something I decided to throw together last minute.

Reviews

[Jack Inthebox]

A mannequin of silence... utterly fresh and brilliant as is the whole poem.

[Rose Tyler]

Not many people can live to tell this morbid tale that you have written. It is excellent, showing how someone who has finally lost sense of reality, dreams, goals, hopes, everything and finds release through crimson streams and cold resting grounds.
Excellent. xx

[SamBug]

This was very good. You did a great job! :)

[J.S. Pua]

give you props for the creative use of mannequin..
good work..

[Andrew Wright]

for something thrown together, I can't help but envy the raw emotion radiating from it. Your imagery has me seeing through your eyes.

[Alex Thomas]

Nice rhythm, great story behind it. The use of mannequin is perfect here, representing the lack of power and inability to control ourselves.

[Cassiopia Summers]

Well this thrown together piece is outstanding. It has a piece of reality within it. Great write.