Merciless within the darkened walls of my melancholy of madness,
My tattered forgotten soul found and lost in a winding maze of sadness.
An internal garden must have wilted my roses  as thick Crimson colored beads trickling down,
Such an emptiness within all I am  dragging me beneath an undertow with constricted movements I drown.
Leaving a trail of fragmented faded  lyrics  to find my way back out of a conflicted despair,
Frantically in search of escape from such depths of my mental illness inevitably misunderstood hopelessly i gasp for air.
Lying in a cold sludge of a pungent black silence as various distorted spiraling thoughts seep within my blown collapsing veins,
A symphony of my vulnerable whispers to be saved merely echo through the trencherous storms of an infallible pain.
Memories creep into my conscience like a disease eating away at what's left of me to cope,
Terrified of my traumatic replayed past frantically searching for my pain to subside, all I need is a needle and dope.
From this docile grave misery I feel helpless worthless to  run, entirely out of corners to hide,
Tangled within my catostrophic self subconscious destruction  accelerated in my addiction my existence is a ghost life for me has died.
An overwhelming urgency falls heavily to take the final drop off the ledge of what can no longer comprehend,
 A surreal vision of my final peace, I sigh  in bliss kissing the Stars as my soul fluently transcends.

Kathryn A Beam

  • Author: brokenwingsfly77 (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 18th, 2022 21:23
  • Comment from author about the poem: I write what I believe comes from my subconscious mind.
  • Category: Sad
  • Views:

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