The Conquest of a Soul

I know you're there

I can see you breathing

And feel you whispering

Why won't you answer me?

My thoughts are so loud

You must hear them

You must know how I'm feeling

My emotions are spilling out of every pore in my skin

Even my tears are screaming

You must feel my thoughts bleeding

How else can I get through to you?

The air surrounding me is painful

Making my mind sweat from the heat

My insides are crowded

Why won't you help me?

The silence weakens me

I would try to talk

But speaking is like bleeding delicious and metallic tears from my tongue

My words are melting to the floor

Even when I sleep my dreams are crying for you

Can't you hear them?

Aren't you listening?

My laboured breathing is possessed by a shadow of my former self

Don't you recognize it?

It's me

The one that you've been searching for

The wait is over

I've returned

Now help me escape this mind

Reviews

[Nolo Segundo]

I'm surprised that none of the 330 previous readers commented on this poem--perhaps its power is too disturbing. From what I've read of your work, you are young [in my 73 year old eyes] and seem depressed, as are many of your generation or so my nephews tell me. I understand depression--it nearly killed me in my 20's. My long leap into a swift Vermont river showed me that I have a soul, and so there is no escape--oh, and suicide is self-murder and God/Karma really, really disproves. Not believing in hell does not mean it is not real.