My_World

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem I wrote while slowly drifting off, not to sleep but obviously to "my world". It's a jumbled mess, so I hope you like it!

Submitted: August 03, 2011

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Submitted: August 03, 2011

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My world

By: Megan Herrick

 

 

 
I sit anxiously in a monotonous  room, for what seems like minutes.
When I suddenly become replaced by reality, hours seems to have passed within the minutes I was in an unknown world.
A world where only myself is welcome, somewhere where I doze off to, sometimes without realizing it.
Lost in thought, sometimes thinking about how all the worried thoughts make my head throb.
The more I think about them, the more anxious I get. Can’t force all the worries that want to quickly pound there ways out of my head, away.
When all the worries and fears become too much too handle, that’s when my sight gets fuzzy, and then sink into a world I myself have created.
Somewhere where I can no longer worry; about the way my outfit horridly fits to my body, or the way people stare as I think that they are laughing behind my back,
or the loneliness I’ll soon feel when the world ignores my outbursts, or worrying about something I have forgotten but can’t remember,
then worrying about everything that I can’t remember, every thought, every memory, as it fades and now forgotten.
All of it gone. What do I have to look back on?
None of these memories can be remembered as they are replaced with a black screen for a matter of seconds when in reality,
I’ve wasted hours, hours that I, myself can’t seem to recall.
But then again, would I want to remember? Do I not remember, since the memory wouldn’t be worth remembering?
This thought only makes me feel worse. And now another five minutes wasted thinking about remembering the nothing I want to remember.
And now that I think about how my life is nothing but a black shield of wasted memories; I then think about all the time I’ve wasted.
Now nearly an adult, without no past life to look back on. Some things I can recall, but most is gone forever. Locked away in the recycling bin, way back inside my head.
Even though I can’t restore the items, that I recall, nor can I forever delete them. So they have to be there somewhere, right?
Or, has my mind forever erased them, beyond replacing? Have I done something? Was I the one that pressed the delete button?
My mind fills with never-ending unanswered questions, then soon drains, into a fuzzy dream of nothingness.
Then becoming confused about everything, as nothing seems to be clear, or readable; as if it were written in a different language.
But as I stare blankly at all the unknown faces, they seem to be able to read this language.
They seem to understand it, a secret I couldn’t and still can’t unlock.
They all walk past, with smiles, right past me. No one looks, since I’m not really here, on this earth where they seem to be.
Well, not physically anyway. Mentally I’m somewhere else, somewhere were no one, but myself is welcome.
Were I speak the language I have created and can understand. But no one else knows this world, and language exists.
And as my mind traps myself within itself, it plans to keep it that way.
Reality disappears as my mind shelters me from the dangers, worries, fears, and responsibilities.
Now that I’m in this world I don’t have to care for myself, since this world cares for me.
It nurtures, calms, and numbs until I myself don’t feel or recognize who I am. But for those few hours in this solitary confinement, I call paradise; I can smile.
For this world knows me better then I know myself. It keeps me coming back, wanting to be numb.
Where the outside world can’t come in, and my world can’t escape, since it doesn’t want to.
This world, my world, wants me all for it self. It doesn’t want to share, as it blocks away all other emotions, so I can only feel what this world wants me to.
It controls my every thought, move, and also what I see and hear. It does everything I need, and keeps me protected from the horrid reality and torture of the cruelty of the world. For now I’m in my world, and never want to escape. Every second I get closer and closer from leaving reality forever, as my world inches me closer. I let it drag me in, but soon enough the outside world distracts me, and the clenching loosens it’s grips; for now. But soon I shall sink back, and maybe, if I’m lucky…never return.  


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