My Cage Poem by Asheton Hunt

I wear heavy chains around my wrist and throat
They drag me down, I struggle to float
The lapping waves of fear and hate
Depression, self loathing, emptiness.
My happiness comes a few days late
And as my wrists are bleeding and world falling, I obsess.
The empty words hollow my chest
'Till nothing but a cavity's left
And I long to feel, even stabbing pain.
But compassion and empathy and naught but a black hole.
I long to sleep forever.
There is nothing else to do, for I am so effortlessly trapped.
I want to disappear.
I don't want to die, I think, not yet.
There are too many uncertainties and variables.
I have tried to remain logical when faced with a crisis.
For if I end up in hell, it may be worse than Earth.
But if God is real, he's cruel, for who else invented sadness?
So, I digress, I will end up in hell.
I hope he is not real.
I would take a knife to my wrist, a bottle of pain killers, a toaster to water, if it meant I would no longer exist.
My consciousness gone, with no thought process.
But I am trapped.
A rock and a hard place, some may say.

I want to escape the glares.
My mothers insecurities, trying to push me away.
Her ignorance of my pain, the honey sweet lies that drip from her maw.
I want to escape my father.
His jokes and humble favors.
The whispered threats that force me to spiral.
The gifts with a genuine smile.
The panic attacks that come with being used as a stress reliever.
I want to escape the lack of friendship.
The ex I still love.
The crippling fear that this isn't real and we do not exist.
The sleepless night and dull days that make me want to cry.
I am stuck.
I am drowning, no longer afloat.