The world of silence anchors my chest
A storm bottled in the bones-
How do i escape this echo chamber
Where even my breath feels borrowed?
This place once called home,
Now hums like a furnace -
Walls whisper in tongues i don't speak.
This isn't safety.
its purgatory stitched into drywall.
I want out-
but every exit is locked
with keys i forged with fear.
Every choice :
A papercut i never let heal.
They bled ink.
Now I'm drowning i drafts of myself
i never meant to write.
How do i shrink myself
to fit in a world built for giants.
With perfect resume's and polished lies?
No armor this time.
Just soft skin and shattered calm.
The real world?
it growls behind closed doors.
And I'm barefoot.
Sleep tastes like sand-
Grains slipping through a cracked hourglass.
I rest,
but the exhaustion is fossil- deep.
Too many clocks.
Too many mouths.
Too many versions of me
To keep alive.
About the Creator
AmynotAdams
~Young Storyteller and poet with a curious mind and love for the little things. i write about everything from late night thoughts and life's messy relatable moments to unexpected insights and the strange beauty it is to be human ~
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Comments (19)
Powerful writing Amy. “This isn't safety” - it sure does feel like that at times. What was once familiar can become hell like you said. Excellent job. 😊
Incredibly good. Devastating and gripping
Ugh. I felt this. Too many versions of me to keep alive. Fabulous work
A beautifully crafted poem. Enjoyed reading it. It is written with feeling and heartfelt deep meaning.
Thoroughly enjoyed your poem! It felt genuine and honest and could sense the exhaustion throughout. Often times, the world seems too loud!
Wow! Your poem rings with a vulnerability in a cruel world. Well written, Amy! 💖 So many great lines.
Barefoot is the way to be. Love the poem
Fabulous work Amy!!
I have just recommended this for a Top Story in Raise Your Voice here https://shopping-feedback.today/resources/raise-your-voice-thread-07-03-2025%3C/span%3E%3C/span%3E%3C/span%3E%3C/a%3E%3C/p%3E%3C/div%3E%3C/div%3E%3C/div%3E%3Cdiv class="css-w4qknv-Replies">
I like how this feels tired in a frantic way Amy- restless and searching. You make the poem very descriptive for the reader to picture, and the last stanza is a strong closer. I particularly like "sleep tastes like sand"- that feeling of grit and irritation is very recognisable. When you use the lower-case "i", is that deliberately done? And I'm curious- "How do i shrink myself to fit in a world built for giants." I love the imagery of this phrase, but it made me question- does that mean the narrator is too big, bigger even than giants?
The quiet desperation and uncertainty in your words are both beautiful and poignant. Well done!
This is stunningly raw—like reading someone’s soul whispered through metaphor. “Purgatory stitched into drywall” and “bleeding ink” hit especially hard. You captured the quiet chaos of existing in a world that demands too much and understands too little. Beautiful and devastating.
Lovely poetry here ♦️🦋♦️
This hits. The world is so hard to navigate right now. I can feel deep heavy emotions in this
Some winderful lines , great poetry
This was so relatable because I've always felt like I don't belong or that I'm born in the wrong era. Loved your poem!
I love the line about being barefoot!
Every line felt like a quiet ache. Beautiful work!
Sad and stunning imagery! Loved it!