Trapped in My Own Mind

Sometimes, mental illness feels like you're stuck. Can't get in, can't get out. You just kinda stare blankly while sitting at the edge of your bed, wondering what you can do. The medicine helps, but it doesn't cure it, lets be real here. In this poem, we view the feeling of mental health taking over as being trapped in a deep well with the stone covering the top. Lonely, afraid, and dying to get out.

"Locked in my own heart.

Trapped in my own mind.

I bang on the door of tranquility and salvation,

but it slams in my face.

My chest caves in on my lungs as I gasp for clean air.

The black smoke of isolation burns my eyes.

Blood drips from the blue orbs on my face.

I cling to my tattered rags, pulling to gain any relief.

The last bit of orange light glows dim,

I start to crawl, alas the brick walls only go up.

I grasp the wall and am pierced by a nail.

I hold my palm in pain, the blood dripping into my lips.

My red-stained face flushes as the orange light diminishes.

I am left alone.

A prisoner of myself.

Only I can save me now."