My depressing soul by Liza Cook (8 ebook reader .TXT) 📖

What is Death

The other day a child asked me what is death

How could I answer a question I didn’t know myself

Is it floating in an endless eternity,

Maybe it is just a feeling of peace

Or perhaps we will burn for the sins we committed while we still had a breath left to give

We might just slowey decay under the ground, our corpses imprisoned in the wooden cage we were lowered down      into this prison

Do we simply cease, our achievements that seemed so important at the time being erased from the memories of        history itself

Do we still feel, do we hear the words of our loved ones as they wish us goodbye, do we shiver from the cold as          we are six feet underground with the inability to talk and express our emotions because of deaths resistance to let      us say that we are not truly gone

Pandora’s Box

 

It was dark when he woke

But it was not the beaming moon nor the prancing wind that disturbed his slumber

It was the sound of his ears pounding in his head from the silent loneliness that surrounded him

This was not the only demon accompanying him that night

He was tormented too by misery, depression, fear, grief, torment, helplessness, and humiliation

Suddenly the silence broke and his head was filled with the screams of Pandora’s box

All the pain and viciousness of the world was let loose behind the confines of his skull

In the background he heard the whispers of those he thought he knew,

Telling him to push through and that he would make it

But did he want to “make it” should he succumb to the will of the demons and be left alone,

Or face the never-ending torture that would surround him if he woke

Society’s Machine

 

I am not a product of society's machine

I am not like others with their picture perfect gleam

I am surrounded by people who are copies of one another

I am in a sea of plastic people in paper towns

We are churned out

Told that to be accepted we must move in this single file line

Silently we judge are scared of the judgement of our other copies

But we hide behind the identical smiles plaster across our plastic face

Stolen

Delirious I hear the pounding of blood in my head with the metallic taste in my throat to match

I can hear whispers of those who might be surrounding me

I  am blind and bound chained by an unknown force

I know even now that death and I will meet soon

I feel a cool barrel against my forehead and a soft whisper in my ear

As those final words reach my subconscious a single tear escapes

A loud bang is heard to those invisible faces around me but it never reaches me

Nobody even knew I was one of the stolen

Crazy

White walls surround me

Closing in and out me

I try to tell them

Warn them

The monsters are coming for us

Yet I am laughed and pittied like the rest of us

They give me special things

"So you you won't hurt yourself" they tell me

I think they just don't trust me

They tell me I just need help

Take the pills and everything will be fine

Just help me hunt the monsters

Then the voices will stop too

They'll stop yelling at me to do so

They won't help

I scream for them to but hey won't

They'll give me the special white jacket in the special white room

And leave surrounded in the darkness with the special word being whispered around me

Crazy

Fangirl

I sit enraptured by the images zooming past

Trying to ignore the pain in my head and the booming in my ears

I hide in the lives of others

For even though they have it worse

In their world I don't feel the pain

Imprint

Publication Date: 02-19-2017

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