untitled poem
by sheri.mp3
i dont know whats wrong with me
i dont know what could cure me
some magical elixir to turn me normal
but its nonexistent
its been so easy to be someone else that i have forgotten who i am
its been so easy to be someone else that its so hard to find who i really am
but ive found out
i am a burden
heavy on the shoulders
heavy on the heart
heavy on the soul
the moment you meet me i become the chain attached to your ankle
the thing that leaves you anxious and worried
the thing that constantly fogs your mind
nothing can fix me
the weeds in my mind are ever-present
i try to cut them away
i cut, pull, chop, burn
but they always come back
no matter how much i try
how much damage i do
how much fixing i do
the good i do
the bad i do
they come back tenfold
but i have grown to like my black garden
it makes me feel at home
the only place i belong and the only place where i can be me
a torturous paradise
drawn to despair
like an agonizing comfort
i meet someone along the way
they like the artificial me
i let peeks of what i think is my real self out around them
they dont seem to mind
i invite them to my woeful garden
i am shocked by their reaction
“this is ugly.”
“you need to get rid of this.”
“do you know anyone who can help with this?”
“have you tried to find a professional?”
these words strike my skin
these words strike my soul
these words strike my heart
these words work their way into my brain
they contort themselves into nasty voices
it is no longer what the person has said
i have found a way to completely twist everything
i dont remember what was originally there
the weeds start to move and dance erratically
i go into a panic
they close in on me and i begin to suffocate
i scream until my throat is bloody and ripped and my voice hoarse
my vision fades out
i see nothing.
when the weeds finally relent and lose their grip on me
my vision comes back
i am bloody.
i am bruised.
i am burnt.
i try to take some advice
the people i look up to, the people who look after and care for me
surely they can help
their reaction throws me off balance, i am left teetering
they become livid
they yell
they scream
their voices become physical symbols on my body and mental marks on my mind
im left in a daze, and the weeds grow stronger
i go to a friend that i trust, that knows about my weed problem
but theyve never seen anything as bad as this
i end up scaring them, the chain on their ankle tightening its grasp, and the ball becoming heavier
i see a black weed beginning to grow and infest their garden
ive made a grave mistake
i stumble back to my coal garden
the weeds comfort me, but they leave scars
they leave me feeling empty and more heavy
nothing can fix this
nothing at all
the weeds rob me of everything slowly
until i become nothing
nothing at all.