Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.136.159.203
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem


{"HOPE splurges angst my rib cage as I thrust aside the bed sheets and allow them to bundle up on their own. There was a longing extravagance in my spirit. 
The voices were painfully appalling and reeked of similarities to the mildly unpleasant mess of my adolescence; it was 
feverish, 
crazy, 
and destructive. 
The tragedy that transpired to that single articulate relic was becoming a happening to myself; demolished to the bottom; not to the ground, but to the shallow sea of the West. 
The arteries underneath my flesh plummeted with the high blood coercion opposing to my sitatuion, my trepidation became evident when I heard your voice, the complete opposite of my own.
Alluring, 
mysterious 
Yet soft and comforting; it offered me a thread of support, and it made my whole body relax against the rigorous cold of the bench I was inaugurated on; away from my own home. My personality shifted without warning; happy, a bundle of joy came to emerge as it wasn’t a distinction or a mere resemblance of what was going on inside. The opposite of it; depression, anxiety, and self-doubt carnage through my whole being and eats me up alive as it does to many of the population today. 
Though we do not express it my darling muses; we let it eat us up alive, every single bit of happiness from our childhood retreating, abandoning us. 
It crumbles away and merits into whispered, muffled sobs as helpless screams penetrate our pillows at night. 
Though we bypass uttering a single proclamation about it; to not be coded as the freak. 
To not be judged and to not be perceived as mentally treacherous or a maniac. We can merely imagine the gossip that would be implemented into the lockers of the long descending hallways of our society, hence our education system. Though to some, it has only become a reality they cannot escape. sense of fashion deters from the rest. 
We wear long sleeves and tug them down to avoid any sort of emotion that comes gleaming into our hues with a prophecy. 
We are the youth who know that everything hits rock bottom, and every good thing comes to an end. Shall I have faith in the future or shall I not? Shall I jump from the Key bridge or would 
someone hold me, 
tell me they miss me,
Offer their condolences, and actually love me enough to lure away the voices, the self-doubt plummeting with variation against my flesh? 
My ears clog up, all being hazy. I can’t even hold up my hand as I inhale the dampness and I… 
drown, 
drown, 
drown."}
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required