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The walls are still, yet I feel them moving towards me,

Closing in, strangling, squeezing the life from me,

They might just yet, I cannot remove the fear instilled in me,

Or how I live my life as if I’m living just to spite myself.



I’m not sure where I am,

I’m too dead inside to be alive,

Yet too overwhelmed to be dead,

I’m lingering around,

Like a bad smell in the air.

I cannot cry, I cannot scream,

Or wake, or sleep,

Sleep offers me bad dreams,

They’re even worse when I’m awake.



All I do is dwell upon the things that couldn’t be,

Or the things that could’ve been,

I cannot forget these things.

I don’t even feel upset anymore, angry, confused…

I’m merely here, not feeling at all,

Only sensitive to light and touch,

I’m numb inside, I don’t feel pain,

So why does it hurt so much?



So now these walls seem further away, they moved away from me,

They spat, they yelled, they ripped the life from me,

Maybe one day, I’ll figure out how to step outside of me,

As for now I can only justify the way in which I treat myself.