A Diary From Noone

She spoke but no one heard, every scream seemed a whisper, and so she took pen to paper...

Category: Words From The Ward (page 1 of 3)

Kiss of life

Raindrops from above,

the tear drops fell upon her.

Lay in a room,

friends and family around her.

Scared and confused.

She found comfort from the mild moderate beeps,

the machine beside her.

With no warning she began to rise,

floating up towards the skies.

She looked down at the canvas she once knew as herself.

Marshmellow Clouds and Golden Gates.

A welcoming congregation from whom she once knew,

the deceased,

they held her close,

kissed her,

and she felt safe.

Again with no warning,

she plumeted back to the ground,

back in the room smelling of dettol,

back on the bed,

as hard as nails.

Yet no more comforting, beeping sound,

no more pain and she looked around,

struggling with short, sharp breaths,

she knew she was alive.

Yet death, no longer conjured fear,

as she, from first hand, was certain

there was somewhere else beyond here.

Tug of War

Like tug of war,

I am tangled in rope,

Being pulled from right to wrong.

There’s a storm that never settles,

And I like a Tsunami,

With every Tidal wave,

Drag all those around me down,

Deeper and deeper in the Ocean.

Drowning, my head goes under the Sea.

I gasp for air and reach for survival.

Sometimes all hope is gone and I am doomed for Fatality,

A silent prayer with my last breath,

I reach out and say,

“Love Me.”

Time to go

It’s like being a cocoon or egg.

Only I know what’s to come.

I’ve been there before.

Being locked up is not ideal,

Yet somehow comforting.

They wrap us up in blankets,

Keep us safe and warm,

But we must break free.

Yet freedom of the mind is not a guarantee.

We may walk freely,

But a prisoner to mental torture,

We will always be.

Women on the ward

What is it that makes us people suffer?

The pain in the atmosphere silently floats above our heads like clouds.

You could fill an ocean with all the tears that have been dispensed here.

Like disinfecting a blocked sewer,

They hose us down with medication.

Like mothers tend to their daughters,

The soldiers patrol and protect us women on the ward.

Twenty-four hour surveillance.

Eyes always watching.

But do they hear our silent cry?

It’s a lottery on this ward,

They come and go,

But do they heal?

I do not think so!

Ward

A new ward,

A new bed,

Same old voices in my head.

Asphyxiate

Last night you came into my room,

Put a pillow on my face.

I struggled not.

You rescued me,

Took me out of this place.

You were my saving grace.

These four walls

These four walls get smaller and smaller,

Closer and closer every day.

I kneel in the middle of the room and pray.

Claustrophobic,

Suffocated by the voice.

In or out of my head,

What it says,

I have no choice but to hear.

In fear I follow its rules.

I shrink along with the room.

While the voice blossoms and I grow weaker every day.

It suffers me gladly.

Wonder

They look at me with wonder.

Flick through their text books.

They go for trial and error,

Whilst I suffer with terror.

Do they refuse to diagnose me or accept that they don’t know me?

Slowly disintegrating.

I wither away.

They cannot hear me.

They cannot hear the voice.

I hear the voice loud and clear and it says,

“You don’t belong here!”

By here it means this world.

So wonder.

Keep on wondering and let God take me home.

Then you needn’t wonder anymore.

What’s going on?

Just existing and for what?

A Hamster I am not!

Fed up of talking,

All these words don’t add up.

I look around at everyone else and their diagnosis seems obvious.

I look in the mirror and see nothing in front of me.

Tired of the voice.

Tired of these overwhelming feelings yet not feeling at all.

Worn out from these complications that has spontaneously risen.

Unsure of who I am.

Therefore unsure of what to do.

They are looking at me for answers.

I have none but suicide.

The Voice

The voice is mine,

Same tone,

Same accent,

Same everything.

Identical.

Yet if the voice is mine,

How come it feels like an attack?

Like a woman possessed I follow its instructions.

It beckons me to darkness and despises all things light.

It is like I have been partitioned into many a different me.

So many Jade’s.

The bad attack the good.

One body.

So many minds.

It’s impossible to decipher which is which.

Who to listen to?

My heads spinning.

Silently shrinking whilst it’s taking full control.

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