Possessed by her voice

The aching of a voice

a hollowed out choice

to listen

the harrowing of what it says

how it plays out in my head

the reaction makes me hear it more

an un deliberate underscore

the four ways to walk

North south east and west

Even my actions and foot prints talk with her voice

and its tone I hear through the static of like sounding voices

her moan sends shivers down my spine

I hear a different version in the movement of the trees branches

Life dances, and the leaves of the trees say in a Kinetic way I love you

but her voice inside my head says I hate you so much

we hardly ever touched when I knew her

but love is the spur

to touch and talk to her

my Queen, my life,my dream.

Dear Diary (warning contains themes of depression and self harm)

Written in creative writing class.

 

Dear Diary

It’s 3 am and I still can’t sleep,
When I think of the bullies at school I weep.
In creeps the hunger to cut and purge again,
The cut of the knife hurts me, though it focuses the brain.
Droplets of blood drip onto the floor
Dull and red, one blood stain more.

In my heart loneliness slowly kills
Making me feel isolated and numbing my will.
My parents are caught in their own private war,
Unaware of what’s happening behind my bedroom door.
My parents are furious at my falling marks at school,
However they haven’t noticed the cuts on my arms at all.

I am left in this house which feels unsafe and unlike a home.
I panic when I am left to my own devices all alone.
My breaths come fast, uneven and I feel sick,
Sometimes I can’t breathe at all, my heart races too quick.
When I was at primary school I had good friends.
These days I feel let down, they’ve turned out to be dead ends.

It’s a shame they all left me and shot through,
now bullies flock around like vultures picking at all I say and do.
Last Tuesday I bunked school and spent it walking around town
people stared at me, making me feel even more down.
I was feeling as if no one understood
So I went to a river near a wood.

I made for my house when it was time to go home,
but the school had already contacted my Mum by phone
My furious Dad threatened me with grounding.
I said “I don’t care! I like my own surroundings!”
The truth is I don’t want to feel anything anymore,
So I pick up the knife to cut myself some more…