MY WALL

I feel everything
It’s all rushing back
I remember the worst
Feelings I’d rather forget

No one understands
No one believed
No one listened
And I was glad they didn’t

Are friends really friendly?
Is love really mutual?
What exactly do we feel?
What exactly do we expect from bonds we create?

I had to shout to be listened to
I was hurt and broken
I wanted someone to share the pain
But all I felt was alone, as always

They called me a loner
Spoke ill behind my back
I was going down, depression
Suicidal thoughts, often, twice a week

4-5 storeys up
Afraid of heights but then was confident
I wanted to end it
I wanted not to feel at all

I thought I could end depression by death
They said and I believed it was easier
Sat alone, lights off in my room
Hoping someone might check up on me

They shouted, “she’s a psychopath”
And all I did was ran
Head down on my bed, I spoke to my dolls
Couldn’t get my eyes dry

Laid hands on me maybe
Threats, all I used to hear
Safe haven no longer a place
Safe haven not a person

Writing from a rehabilitation center
All I have are chalks and my wall
Too afraid to hand me books and a pen
Afraid that I’m really a psychopath,
The worst might happen

At least my wall listens
My wall writes back
I now have nothing to lose
Lost everything, everyone when I got here


@$heetheepoet