Poem; I Feel Nothing.

by **MC Anonymous** » Jun 25th, '10, 23:38

I feel nothing.

I was born to die,
and every last bit of time spent is worthless.
What is the point?
Where is my purpose?
To sit confined within four walls and...
nevermind, nobody will understand me.
I breathe chaos and cry rage,
but the hourglass continues to fill,
and I am left alone; scared and afraid.
When the hourglass fills..
what will become of me?
Who will be there to comfort me when I cannot comfort myself?
I feel as if I'm on my last years of living,
however..
I am merely seventeen years old.

I feel nothing.

I try, each time I smashed my fist against the wall.
Each time I grazed my skin with the unforgiving blade.
Each time I tried to strangle myself with my own hands.
Yet, I felt nothing. No relief. No Pain. Nothing.
Why?
Am I that worthless that the pain will not bother to grace me with its presense?
What is my purpose?!
To wander corridors of thought aimlessly with broken compasses,
outdated emotional maps,
masks in the form of medication,
and.... hate?

I feel nothing.

Or, do I feel?
I'm confused, this room is dark.
This place scares me.
Where is the light switch?
There is none.
No matches, no windows, no door.
Then, how did I get in here?
How will I get out?

I feel nothing.