Silent battles.

Bricks,

That was the walls in my little cell. 

No having fun for kicks. 

Only my personal Hell. 

These terribly messed up mind tricks.

 

My bed.

My prison; guarding me from the outside,

Being stuck alone really hurt my head.

I was trapped inside.

My feet-my whole body-felt like lead.

 

Anxiety,

Depression is the same way.

Fighting it silently,

Making me want to run away,

But, I just couldn't get up from my mind and me.

 

What's wrong with me?

What's wrong with my little cell of bricks?

My little cell safe from life.

Safe from people?

From me?

 

No one can help me decide 

Or help me believe in life,

Ever again.

This poem is about: 
Me

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