Saturday, August 20, 2011

Poem #538

Dear Diary

Dearest Diary,

I’m not sure how to say what I feel.
Everything has flooded my mind, pulled me under,
Pitched me into a cloudy darkness, terror,
With a stench that pierces right into my soul.
Coughing, choking on what I push down deep,
It digs its claws relentlessly into me,
Tearing away all that remains of who I was,
And leaving an empty shell that goes unnoticed.
I gather dust in my quiet corner of torture,
One passed my, so easily, willingly overlooked.
No one wants to see me, reach out to this broken spirit.
Dropping down, falling through the cracks of the earth,
Separated from the sunlight, the rays of hope.
But I still can’t explain how I feel.
It’s an endless struggle, a battle I’m losing.
How am I supposed to say how I feel,
When my lungs are full of sorrow, swollen shut,
And I am drowning on every word and thought?
Where do I start?

Dear Diary,
I
feel
lost.

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