Believe Me, Something is Wrong

No, this is not a phase,

this is an enrage.

This is an anger;

self-hatred stewing in a boiling vat,

a confusion of the senses

determining who the enemy is.

No, this is not a trend,

this is a revolution.

This is a realization of disrepair -

a faulty wire throwing off sparks,

engulfing dreams in a hungry blaze.

No, this is not in my head,

this is a scar.

This is a physical decay,

a shattering of quaint reality

of how far I will go

to be released from this hell.

No, this is not fake,

this is real.

This is tears shed quietly,

muffled by pillows and silent screams.

This is a body-turned-corpse,

functioning only on inputs and instinct .

This is a heartbreak not easily mended -

a rendering of the soul hastily applied,

neglected and ignored,

left for death.

No, this is not what you perceive,

but it is something

that should still be believed.

________________

This is the 15th poem in RE: SURGENCE, a poetry collection by Amanda Starks that shares what it's like to have and fight against mental illness in a free-form, lyrical prose.

Be aware that topics and themes may include suicide, self-harm, and isolation.

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If you want a free copy of RE: SURGENCE in an online, fully formatted PDF document, subscribe to my email newsletter at www.amandastarks.com ( found under the CONTACT tab ), and it will be in your inbox once all the poems have been published here!