How It Feels
I’ve been struggling.
My head has been
I thought it was the right thing to do.
To get help
I’ve been asked how it felt
To tell someone
That I have kept inside
For all this time
How do you tell someone what’s wrong
When you, yourself,
Do not know?
That is, you don’t until they press on you so hard that the truth
From your throat.
The place it’s been trapped for months.
Then, they give you a compass
Made of the shiniest gold,
Not a fingerprint made on its surface,
And tell you to find your way North.
But the moment it hits your hand the needle spins in
Chaotic circles along with your mind
The gold turns to corroded brass
Green stains mark your hand branding you a traitor to your own body,
And the person who gave it to you has disappeared, leaving you
So incredibly alone.
Now you’re stuck, surrounded by what feels like
What feels like too much, and at the same time
There is no sun in the sky,
No stars to navigate
And the only thing you see is unfamiliarity
That you have no choice but to walk into.
Circling back on yourself you lose more and more hope,
The compass has stopped spinning
But your mind Hasn't.
Don’t let it stain you for longer than it as to