My scream is trapped inside of me.
I stifle my urge to run fast and flee.
My control of my own life is gone.
Chased by nightmares until dawn.
Suffocating on my words unspoken.
My self esteem and hope is broken.
Drowning in my pool of self pity.
He chips away until I feel itty bitty.
Loneliness remains my only friend.
Exhausted from having to pretend.
He tells me my memories are false.
Examining every one of my faults.
I believe that my feelings are valid.
I’m not the bad guy in this ballad.
Trapped in the pit of despair.
I would rather be elsewhere.
I cry, I plead, I beg and I pray.
Give me just one happy day.
About the Creator
Britt Blomster
I'm a writer, poet, storyteller and dreamer. I'm inspired by the world around me and channel that into my writing.
E-mail: [email protected]
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Hall of mirrors
Things used to matter, before all the noise. And at that time when things still had meaning, there had been dreaming too, when dreams still mattered. And the brightest dream from those times was full of mountains and seas and smiles and the types of passion that absorbs you the way a dog is absorbed by witnessing something for the first time: with absolute presence, and awe.
By Giulia Viti3 days ago in Fiction
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