The Well | Teen Ink

The Well

October 23, 2013
By L.C.Byrde SILVER, Edgewood, Iowa
L.C.Byrde SILVER, Edgewood, Iowa
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I’m hiding captive in the well
My whereabouts I can’t tell
It’s dark down here I think I say
Not alive, won’t matter anyway
No soul around but I stay tense
The closing darkness ever dense
Despair like moss covers filthy walls
Why can no one here my calls

I feel ugly though I cannot see
Something that will always be
I lay in tangles on the floor
Bearable cause I feel no more
I sit in wait for my liberation
Though, I’ve given up all preparation
Sadness’ resident I refuse to become
But I don’t remember where I’m from

What’s that a dangling rope?
I don’t believe, though I hope

The bright illumination scary
For underground I was buried
Emerge into an easy happy world so bright
Burning, scathing that happy light

Life, Life too much to take
I’m not ready to fully wake
My beautiful demons call down inside
In my lovely, dark well is where I hide


The author's comments:
To me, this piece is depression. Or at least my experience. Depression is like being thrown into a dark endless pit, a well. Even when despair releases you, it can be hard to want to leave.

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