My Trapdoor

Wed, 12/14/2016 - 11:41 -- klodea

 

I fell through a trapdoor of depression

For years I felt it giving way

Until finally it fell completely open, I plummeted

Into a world of drinking...drugs...cutting…

 

I tried to reach out to my friends’ hands

That came from the trapdoor above me

I really tried...

 

They told me they were here for me

They said they’d always help me

But no words of consolement,

Not acts of benevolence,

No look of sympathy,

Would ever mend my aching heart.

They didn’t try to grasp for my hand hard enough;

In the end… I’d been abandoned

 

The relentless pain surging through my very being

Eventually numbed every essence of me; a revelation

It didn’t matter

How many therapists I’d see,

Or how many hours I’d cry,

I would never be the same ever again

Nor would I ever be saved from my cursed trapdoor

 

When I heard the divine sound of creaking hinges

I thought i was hallucinating,

...Until I saw a flash of red-orange

And a hand descending from the edge of the trapdoor…

 

Then I realized…

There WAS somebody willing to fight for me...

Someone strong enough to hold open the door for me,

Someone strong enough to lift me out of this hellish trapdoor.

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Me
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