Nov 20


sometimes I scream just I can hear my own voice
in this silence my thoughts are louder than any drum
my heartache sticking to me
like a tack in my thumb 
I yell to know I exist 
in this solitary confinement 
I feel like my conscience is clawing at the walls of my body 
tearing into my mind
I lack connection to the outside
the electricity 
of positivity 
it's down 
on the ground
like my dreams
a wave of nothingness washes over me
indifference clothing my body 
shelving the hopes that one day 
i could say what I meant 
and somebody would hear me. 


The Madwoman In The Attic

Ada’s heart was pounding as she climbed the creaky stairs to the attic. She heard the sound again, a low moan. Ada took a shaky breath and kicked open the door.