This is a dark confessional one. My ode to Sylvia Plath. Sometimes writing is the only way to get the darkness out.
Trapped
by
Raymond Tyler
Blackness – like my heart has bled raw.
The soul that has been stripped away from my bones leaving me bare.
I am naked – yet people can see the clothes draped upon my skeleton.
My smile hides the festering storm that rages inside.
Grey clouds have wrapped themselves around my mind
filtering the light into speckles of black and white.
Scapegoats that receive my undeserved wrath.
Confused and not understanding that the only crime
is being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Guilt – oh, the ultimate regret,
for letting others see my monsters from within.
These demons that lie dormant
and trick me into believing that they are gone.
They scrape and claw and strive to explode forth.
I try to shout for help,
but they clamp my mouth shut laughing in my mind that they have won.
I scream, but no one hears.
My pain only manifests itself through the reflection in my eyes.
19 May 2017
