Empty Walls

This was my first poem. This poem is about being trapped.

Nothing.

I owe nothing to anyone.
It's all gone, go to someone else for your sick twisted needs,
desperate desires, leave me alone.
I'm done 'cause I'm gone.

Empty.

You took all my pride,
joy flitters away from me,
leaving only survivor's guilt,
to fill the empty spaces inside.

Empty.

Inside these tear-stained,
injured empty walls,
cracked with strain everytime I fall.

Punching

the walls,
all my fear-turning-to-rage,
the colour grey like a storming cloud,
blood
dripping
down my knuckles.

I write upon the walls my story for all to see.
Swift slashes of crimson
immortalize me.

Running.

From shame,
leaving it all
behind me.

Alone.

I sit here,
in my secret hiding place.
Thinking of you,
what you put me through.

So cold.

I am lost.

So cruel.

I am lonely.

Can I save me from myself?
The darkness that envelopes me,
consumes me like a roaring
rage of fire.

Nothing.
Empty.
Trapped
within these four walls.

Never can I escape.