I give my mom a hug and feel nothing. No happiness, no love, no comfort. I want to repel away. She looks at my face with worry as she sees the absence of care on my face. She sees my dark eyes and straight smile. I register her face but do nothing to calm her thoughts. I have never been the type of person to fake a smile or to fake an emotion. I am blunt and wear my emotions on my sleeves. She leaves and I turn up the music. I feel the sound and pain in my body. The music has a way of putting pressure on me. The music pumps through my veins.  I can feel the pain the artists felt and think the same thoughts. I feel the anger and sadness. I feel the loss of hope. I can feel no love or happiness. It is harder to breathe and I feel my hair and face to remind myself I am still living. I think about my mom. I think of how she does not understand. She wants to know what I am thinking. She wants to understand. How can she understand me when I cannot even understand myself? Sometimes I have very disturbing thoughts. I imagine myself ripping my hair out in frustration. I have imagined myself possessed and filled with only darkness. I imagine me scratching my skin off but instead I dig my nails into my bed. I imagine me with evil eyes and a straight, mean looking face. I fold over upon myself and just feel the pain numbing my body. The poison has spread throughout my body. It falls from my eyes and rolls down my face. I try to catch my breathe but I can’t. My lungs feel like they are collapsing in on themselves. Then I desperately take a breath. My lungs fill with oxygen, but I feel no relief. I sob in pain. My heart feels as though it has bursted. My brain presses against my head, sending sharp needles to my temples. I stay folded over waiting for it all to pass. Time feels as though it is standing still waiting, and waiting, and waiting  for time itself. I wait and wait and wait for the poison to leave, but it never does.


This poem is about: 


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