Trapped
In their head...
It's cold inside my head, where my demons reside, trapping me within this body of mine, but the iciness doesn't make me shiver anymore.
I turned seventeen two months ago, full of hope that I'd finally be freed. And it's been thirty-eight days, three hundred and sixty-four minutes and forty-two seconds since I left that God-forsaken house and moved into my dorm but nothing.
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| -Keenan Constance (From Unsplash) |
They tell me I'm naive, they tell me I'm worthless, they tell me I'll get hurt because I deserve it. I'm trapped in my head but it seems eerily safe now. I do what I'm told. Numb and Distant, Numb and Distant, Numb and Distant and that's what I've become.
These "Demons", they hold me captive simply to protect me. At least that's what the man in my mirror tells me. I know now that I mustn't trust anyone, not even myself because if I do then I'll get hurt. I know that I must maintain distance to prevent myself from being used, abused or discarded.
Things are so different now, as a child I was carefree. But as the years passed me by I knew I had to change. I moved out of my parents' room, and into my own, this was when I was given new roommates.
The man in my mirror and the voices under my bed. The room, the symbol of my independence, became a prison but I was soon convinced otherwise. My roommates taught me how to survive and I learnt that I wouldn't be punished if I obliged, soon after that the nightmares ended and insomnia began to watch over me. The room became tolerable but the world outside grew increasingly dark.
Even today as I sit on my bed, in my single room, I have companions. The only difference is that during this move of mine, they shifted too, from my old room of my mind, from my roommates to my tenants. Little had I known that even after leaving those walls behind, I'd be forever trapped in these rooms, in my body, in their mind.
These "Demons", they hold me captive simply to protect me. At least that's what the man in my mirror tells me. I know now that I mustn't trust anyone, not even myself because if I do then I'll get hurt. I know that I must maintain distance to prevent myself from being used, abused or discarded.
Things are so different now, as a child I was carefree. But as the years passed me by I knew I had to change. I moved out of my parents' room, and into my own, this was when I was given new roommates.
The man in my mirror and the voices under my bed. The room, the symbol of my independence, became a prison but I was soon convinced otherwise. My roommates taught me how to survive and I learnt that I wouldn't be punished if I obliged, soon after that the nightmares ended and insomnia began to watch over me. The room became tolerable but the world outside grew increasingly dark.
Even today as I sit on my bed, in my single room, I have companions. The only difference is that during this move of mine, they shifted too, from my old room of my mind, from my roommates to my tenants. Little had I known that even after leaving those walls behind, I'd be forever trapped in these rooms, in my body, in their mind.
This was a little composition I wrote up for school.
Luv,
Musk.
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