Escaping The Sound

1/14/06. I was a good bit younger, and no one was listening--I was too young to understand the basic mechanics of life and emotion. So, I unleashed the frustration I felt.

Escaping the Sound

I’m longing to escape this

                      Treacherous domain

Of psychosis through the ink of my pen.

Over the distraught hillside

                     Of trees

                         You will see a failing star,

                  Spilling the crimson sorrow

         Of its descending life

                       Upon the world below,

          Lighting the eyes and staining the retinas blind.

I’m trying to release the frustration

That slides in the silence

        Like sand on paper in my ears

                   Through the constant motion

Of my hand--

Translating thoughts into a poem…

A script that seeks to dull the reality of instability

I have come to bear.

                   I just want to be happy,
                But this depression is drowning me--

  

I’m too weak to swim anymore.

My voice is stolen by my age--

It cannot warn anyone of this downward

Spiral

That is a gateway into my erupting prison--

                                     An eroded and forgotten paradise.

Insecurities transcend all reassurance

As the setting sun cowers in the night’s approach--

A halting scream that demands all

           Blood to curdle;

This degenerative silence evokes the same response.

The inside must come out,

             And all I have found within myself

                                Are these bruises and lashes

                From the ones I love and trust--

From loss.

      From what my eyes behold.

         From regret.

                                     Self destruction is the only way out…

And the only way out is in.

Author's Note

Thoughts, ideas, opinions, etc--all is welcome!

Reviews

[Another Relic]

Depression is such a common occurance among all of us at one time or another. You expressed it well with key words throughout. Glad to see your better an a little older with the ability to look back at those thoughts rather than be a constant part of them. Always good to read your words Snow.