Halfway Here | Teen Ink

Halfway Here

February 27, 2012
By Evyfan111 DIAMOND, Castle Pines North, Colorado
Evyfan111 DIAMOND, Castle Pines North, Colorado
64 articles 0 photos 13 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;Writing eases my suffering. It&#039;s my soul&#039;s medicine. I write when I hurt. I write what I fear. Writing is my form of personal freedom. I write to save myself. I write to survive as an individual.&quot;<br /> ~Amor Magner


Shimmering luminescence;
Is it a lie,
An illusion to fool
The earthly eye?
Is it a cloak you use
To hide the darkness within;
Do you use it like a mask
To shield yourself
From prying eyes?

I can’t see you.
Your faint outline
Is there,
Barely visible,
But the rest has been
Washed away by
A torrent of sorrow,
A cascade of brightness.

Where are you?
I can’t find you.
Looking in a mirror
I see nothing,
Nobody,
Naught but a shadow.
Where is my reflection?

I miss my eternal twin,
Who used to wave back
When I waved hello,
Who always had a smile
To share with me.

She disappeared,
Ran and hid,
Like a coward,
The way that I desperately wish
To escape,
And leave all this behind.
But instead she
Left me behind,
An empty shell,
Hollow and worthless.

I yell at her to
Come back
And help me face
Our greatest fears,
But she does not listen.
I beg her to
Help me find my way
And fight the loneliness
That threatens to overtake me,
My constant companion,
But she stands,
Unmoved by my pleas.

I can’t breathe,
I don’t know how anymore;
I just want to
Shut

Down,
Shut

Out the world,
And not care anymore,
To hibernate, meditate,
Regain the strength
And courage
That I once had.

Slouching,
Watching and listening
Warily,
Not making a sound.
Don’t want to
Draw attention to myself,
Don’t want any more pain.

I choke on unspoken words;
Why can’t I stand
Up for myself?
Why am I rendered mute
In the face of danger,
Amidst the many bullets
Zooming straight at me.
Why do I hang my head
And take the abuse,
Day after day,
Though I am so sick
Of it,
Telling myself
That their lies must be true,
That I deserve it,
Every last bit of it.

I’m afraid,
So very afraid,
Of everything,
And nothing,
Nothing at all.


The author's comments:
When I feel desperate, alone, depressed, when the walls of the world are closing in on me, I write. this poem is about many things, so take it as you will, but to me it is mainly about how I dont know who I am when I look in the mirror, because it doesn't match who I am inside. Somedays I feel like I am so ugly, so vulgar, and I wrote this poem on one of those days.

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