Kristen Wallen Poet I do not know?

Trapped

Trapped

A mannequin of silence

I never knew a room could

Be so constricting, so small.

I haven’t eaten in days,

My stomach hurts like hell

I feel drained, worthless

I have nowhere to go

No one to lean on

No hopes

No dreams

I’m losing blood fast;

A puddle of crimson

Pooling all around me

My vision is faltering now

The world is turning black

I can’t hold on

I lay on the cold, smooth floor

My eyes sliding shut

I drift into a deep,

Deep, peaceful sleep,

Finally relieved.

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