The walls are talking to me
as they often do,
The only comfort
in this silent room.
Staying by will
or incarcerated?
I can't be sure anymore,
I wonder if suicide is an option
"MORE"
The walls would implore.
It's too white in here
the brightness
is sickening,
slowly my hold on life
is loosening.
I'm bound to this world
by needle and thread,
The walls are not talking?
Is it all in my head?
I hate this place,
I can't think straight.
There's too many screams,
Maybe they were right to leave me here
or so it seems.
The voices have won
they knew they would
they always do,
In this ASYLUM the voices
always fascinated
they speak of YOU!
A contest entry
- Picture Prompt: MADNESS! by Asylaarix.
525 points, ended January 29, 31 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Favorite line
Bound to this world
by needle and thread.
I know I felt that way more than a couple of times. -
haha the last lines were something unexpected. Though if you think about it...you were talking from the inside of an asylum. This was a pleasent way to make me smile through my time of pain...thanks for that!
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