Poetry

Tunnel vision

HELP ME! Help me! help me…
I hear the sound of my own voice as it echoes back my way, slowly fading through the cracks in the wall…
All I see is bricks, I’ve got nowhere to go, this road is dark and endless… With every step forward, life adds a brick, all the words uttered to downplay my pain, all the eyes turned away at the sight of my shame, all the rejected phone calls… I’ve gotten used to hearing people’s voicemails, at least they genuinely speak to me…
I smile and I laugh with my physical body but my soul aches, my soul rares,
rares for a meaningful conversation, it longs for a glimpse of hope, for a needle of light to lead me home, because this can not be home. Home is supposed to be warm and fuzzy, home is supposed to be happy… WHERE AM I? Where am I? where am i?
Here I am talking to myself again… The only voice that seems to care. I seem to be fighting a battle so unfair, a mental warfare, trying to escape this nightmare, the load is so heavy when you have no one with whom to share and I dare not share in fear that they just shame me again…

I’m a burden no one is willing to bear…
Just another victim of depression, another abandoned child, a soul so misunderstood…

by

Jacques Maghoma Kisula

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