Old Stuff, New Meaning

I was going back through blog entries on my blogger account and came across this poem I wrote the day before I was hospitalized.

the black is closing in again

the black is closing in again

rubber band ribs

stretched to the point of snapping

can’t get the air to go in or out again

each breath is like torture

each thought jumbled

racing from here to there

concentration is a dim memory

feel like i’m floating

transient consciousness in a body

that isn’t really there

the fog won’t lift

surrounded by shadow

surrounded by the overwhelming need

to self-destruct

shut down as if I were a machine

I keep trying to go through the motions

mind says ‘shut it out, succumb to the black’

fighting myself

fighting routine

keep trying to fight the urge to run

want to be away from it all

if I could just see the end

the light might become bigger

but the light isn’t there


dark keeps sucking me in


consuming rationality

screaming screaming

leave, just leave me.


Can’t move forward

can’t shuffle back

its not me

my mind has a mind of its own

keep me in a cage

heart racing

trying to find a way through the darkness

I am being swallowed whole


heart fluttering inside the rib cage

caged. trying to be free

the drugs bring no relief

just encourage me to give in

to shut down as my mind commands

I want to let it take over

take me away

thoughts taking flight.

I can’t stand it

giving in

going home

shut. down.


~ by falloutmommy on June 17, 2010.

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