My walls

Mon, 04/07/2014 - 12:45 -- MaraBH

Sitting in a corner I hug my knees rocking back and forth as the walls close in on me.

Four corners, four walls, they have been my home for an eternity.

Every day I wait and hope for the day when the doors fly wide open.

Every day the walls have been my company, they hear and they listen not ever judging me.

 

In my head the voices speak and the voices rise.

Louder and louder they get as the night rolls by.

They scatter through my head digging in deep, looking and looking as they speak to me.

They tell me to flee, they tell me to leave, and they tell me to find what belongs to me.

 

Morning comes in and the voices seem to abandon me.

 

A kid, a teen, a young girl, they have all been murdered before me; all have been killed between these four walls.

A lifetime lost, a lifetime wasted.  

 

The door stands across the room waiting patiently for the right person to walk right in.

It stands strong and it stands weak.

The door calls my name and it begs to be opened.

My feet step across the room and near the door.

I stand upon it, my soul shaking as I reach the exit.

But I fall to the floor before this door can be opened.

In the end it is my choice and in the end it is I who decides to remain stuck between these four walls.

 

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741