The Lament of a Teenage Insomniac.

I wrote this at about 3-4 in the morning. I just kindof let loose abunch of thoughts. Wanted to keep it somewhere.

It seems like now-a-days, no one knows I'm here. I'm invisible. Another someone. A face. A shadow, crying in the bathroom stall. Just another dramatic teen, right? Who knows, who cares? Just another lost soul, hurting, yearning for comfort. Withering away, awash in a million unheard thoughts, begging for a friend. No one knows. Will anyone help? Who has a clue? Does anyone know her name? Of course not. Just another thousand drops of hidden emotion, flowing steadily into a sea of billions. Who will dry them? No one. Who willl hold her when she weeps? No one. Who will feel her suffering? No one. Who will see it? No one. Just a couple more drops of weakness, behind her hollow eyes. Just another heart, cracking under pressure, like a great dam; too old, tattered, and overwhelmed to hold anymore weight.Yet it keeps building up. Will anyone mend the progressing cracks? No. Will anyone notice them? No. Just another dam. Just another crack. Just another bucket of tears into the river behind it.

Author's Note

My main focus was the figurative language. Tear it apart, if you will. There's always room for improvment.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

Just another heart, cracking under pressure.
A nice write.