Madness, Sadness, Sleepless

I want to scream until my rage blinds me
I want to grab my hair from where it grows at the scalp and rip it hard
Wrap it up in my fists like boxer tape
I want to kick holes in thin dry wall
And smash my hands against wooden tables
I want to escape this body
Have this thing they call a soul grow sharp razor like fingers and claw it’s way out of this flesh trap
I want to tear right through bone and cartilage
I want to leave behind the agitation that rests so heavy in my bones
Like tonight
Where nothing in particular has upset me
But I feel as though my whole body is ablaze
Pulsating with angst
And irritation
Yelling into my pillows
Insufferable screams of my suffering
Kicking my feet like a child against my hard mattress
Tossing
And then turning all night
This urge to get up and run
Barefoot
Down my suburban street
In my underwear and stained shirt
Howling at the almost full moon
Feverish
And frightened
Maybe free in madness
This impulse to feel flesh against broken concrete
I think it could bring me some relief
But the thought of harsh judgments
And silent responses
To echoing depravity
Just has me gripping my sheets tighter
And scratching at my neck harder
Because nothing is enough
And everything is too much
All the time
Wondering when it will be my turn
As childish as that may sound
Impatient at that may be
Wondering when it will be my turn
To walk the streets clothed
To sleep in peace
To look into the mirror
And know who it is
That watches me
But until then
I’ll find different ways to escape
Like taping little letters
Into my little phone

Author's Note

Wrote this quickly through agitated fingers

Photo - Vintagefantasymag

Reviews

[Richard Knox]

This poem, like all of yours that I’ve read, transports me into your frame of mind, regardless of my own at the time, through its powerful, evocative images. The variations in line length and tempo toss the reader back and forth, and reinforce the sense of agitation that your words describe. Another moving, emotional piece sharing your inner anguish with your sympathetic readers. And then the illustration: funny, and not so funny. Thank you.

[The Things She Noted]

Wow, thank you so much for such a wonderful review on my writing - I really do appreciate all your kind words!

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

It is in those letters we write to ourselves that reflect who we truly are. Our ambitions, heartaches, hopes, and failures. To capture into words the hidden turmoil of our souls. In the places we rarely reveal to others. A very relatable piece of poetry to every artist who has felt these exact emotions at some point in life. Thank you for sharing your wonderful work with us.

[The Things She Noted]

Thank you so much for such a beautiful and insightful message, I really appreciate your response! :)