Sometimes ago

I've tried so hard to stay conscious but have no control over my thoughts;
They pull me to depths I never knew existed in my head.
It gets so hard to catch my breath when I find myself so deep in and I get lost over again.
I think I blacked out a couple of times; some of which you sat by my side.
You asked me what was wrong once and I told you I was tired;
Indeed, I was choking on my own breath that second.
You told me everyone was tired, and you believed I was strong enough to get my shit together.
I was gagged, bound and possessed; how was I supposed to rein myself in?


Sometimes ago, I saw a post on the gram about speaking to God.
When people fail to listen, God listens, they promised.
And so I spoke to God;
I spoke to the big deity up there and waited to hear him say something to me.
They didn’t tell me that he never did speak back to the possessed ones
My poorly formed words bouncing off high end walls and ripping through my soul I wept and screamed every midnight.
Now, I live with my hands bound and choke on my new found obsession- death.
 It holds me hostage in every of my thoughts and scares the hell out of me.

So I pray with fervor, come every morning,
But the chains only get tighter.
Fear courses through my veins and I've learnt to swim under the whispers.





I got my shit together, because you said to.
I laughed too hard at your jokes, and smiled even more when you told me I looked less tired.
I never told you because you never asked.
Now I’m close to the edge.
The last thoughts in my head is how much of a coward I am; My last memory- the vast rocks stretching before me;

Laying in wait to smash my skull through and play host to my brain matter.
As I shudder awake from this nightmare that haunts me every night I go to sleep,
I think of the beautiful life I have and weep for my pathetic self.
The fear of it sooner becoming a reality if you never ask what I see every time I shut my eyes to sleep.


 ....
QJ