Nowhere to go | Teen Ink

Nowhere to go

September 11, 2017
By Bailey Dickson BRONZE, Whangarei, Other
Bailey Dickson BRONZE, Whangarei, Other
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Darkness smothers every cell in my brain,
It twists my wrists in an eternal chain.
Bound by the smoldering ropes of defeat,
My once beating heart no longer complete.
Thoughts corrupted by the devil on my shoulder,
Not even the angel could hold on much longer.
I hate the nights where I feel so hollow inside,
Pillows flooded from all the tears I’ve cried.
My invisible enemy is winning this fight,
An insatiable beast devouring my soul bite by bite.
Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide,
Stuck in a place where heart and soul collide.
Suffocating on the thick fog hovering over my mind,
Blinded by the dense forces keeping me confined.

When did this journey into darkness start,
Maybe it began when my life fell apart.
That day among days stands out to me most,
The day you left me and became a ghost.
You took my strength and resilience to fight,
And with your shield gone, I’m no longer alright.
The words of others slice through my open wound,
My fate is sealed, my life is doomed.
These heavy words rest upon my shoulders,
Without your warmth, my life has got much colder.
I’m just a punching bag for their cruel, harsh words,
Tears escape my eyes, I wish I had misheard.
Unloved, waste of space, the list goes on,
No past, no future, the old me is gone.

One of many yet so alone,
Who am I to others? Just an unknown.
No one can hear my heartbeat song,
In this darkness I wonder, “where do I belong?”
Forever running on the arduous treadmill,
Loneliness has halted my world to a standstill.
Cavernous, rocky, the bottom is near,
The thought of the hard landing is what I fear.
Do I hit the bottom and then start the climb,
Or will I still fall into a steady decline.
Reality is, I hold the power to end it,
Unworthy soul, a deformed misfit.
The idea is sprung, no backing down now,
A devilish plan, detailing the how.
Where to start? That is the question,
I’ve got to exorcise this demonic possession.
Will it be by a rope, hanging by a thread,
Or by a knife, skin stained dark red.
All in all, the decision is made,
The glistering white gems don't have me afraid.
I count to three then swallow them all,
My once known life is beginning to fall.
I can feel the chemicals entering my bloodstream,
My heart is beating the rhythm of a silent scream.
The grim reaper whispers sweet promises in my ear,
Promises that would make me disappear.

The author's comments:

This poem is inspired by the mental illnesses that Amy Winehouse and Lena Zavaroni suffered during their lifetime. The poem mostly focuses on the feeling of being trapped in one's mind and the effects it has on their well being.


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