Untitled

This poem has never had a title. It was written a few years ago and I still cannot give it one. I have tried but it is a being unto itself, and I cannot find one that fits it.

The World is loud, noisy

Everyone around me talking

I am pulled many separate ways,

Forced out of my dwelling.

I have no escape,

Nothing around me is coherent.

My thought are no longer mine,

The World prays on me, Innocent.

I close my eyes to block it out:

The voices, the faces, the touch.

I feel as though my cares are drowning

In the people I love so much.

I don't know what to do.

Nothing about me is me anymore

I've given too much of myself.

It's not something I can just ignore.

Author's Note

This is an old poem I thought I would share. I don't remember what was going on in my life when I wrote this, and since I'm so far removed from the emotion with this poem, I thought I would share and leave for you to enjoy, dear reader :)