Thrash

I've got my hands over my ears

and my throat aching with voice

I can see things (dark undertones to the light) all my fears

they grab and pry and I don't have a choice.

I thrash and move

eyes will look but I've got nothing to prove.

I don't care, as I toss and turn

my back hits the wall

I plant my feet on the ground and get lost, enthralled

my hair falls over my eyes

over the loudness, no one hears their cries

My voice cracks and I stumble,

I fall through the floor

I am lost to them, and myself no more.

 

 

 

Author's Note

:P I don't know, really, just tell me what you think please.

Reviews

[hershey's kiss]

It's vague and uncertain, with only some suggestion of what might be happening to the person in the poem. it's almost open to reader interpretation.
I liiike :]

- hershey's kiss

[Bud]

It reminds me of nightmares I have had through the years. Quite the battle going on. I have just now, this moment come to believe that our nightmares are a mosaic of our inner battle with ourselves. You express yourself very well. You have both the precision of a surgeon, and the creativeness of history's artists! Keep it up!

[deeps]

I like this it's almost to the sense of
Hear no, speak no, see no evil kind of thing.
This is wonderful!