My Pastic World Poem by Bri Marie Ormsbee

Slowly I’m losing control of my life.
I believed and told myself I had a sort of fragile grip on things.
Instead of just this knife.
Not knowing what to do,
I’m starting to become unglued.
Everything around seems so unfair, and no longer true.
It’s all spiraling out of control.
I honestly don’t know what to do.
My beautifully painted mask has fallen and is begin to crack.
The world around me is becoming a permanent black.
No longer warm and bright,
And no, not everything is all right.
Everything is wrong.
All the good in my plastic world is gone.
The bright colours that used to be so familiar to me are beginning to smear.
No more laughter and joy, now emptiness, pain, so many tears, and constant fear.
While the darkness takes over,
I attempt to take cover.
But it’s no use.
My life no longer has a muse.
I try to scream or whisper, but no words come out, not even a sound in between.
Who knew this world I created could be so cruel and mean.
So eager to scare.
The only screams I hear are of painful memories, to close to the heart, and to hard to bare.
I see you way out there, wanting to help.
But honestly it hurts too much to care.
And yet you’re still there.
Trying to convince me that my life is one to spare.