# Poem: Myself, the Stranger (may trigger)



## afireinside (Dec 26, 2007)

Awoken from one dream into another
Trapped within my own mind, unable to escape unconsciousness
I am the actress on the stage, being watched by all, yet unable to watch myself
I am the observer, I see the real world around me but I am never a part of it.
I am locked inside the section of universe where time meets space and reality is disabled.
Fear enfolds me; I become the object of unreality.
I am embodied in the weakness of those who have gone before me.
Identical minutes revolve around me but still the passage of time refuses to let me through.
I am an indistinguishable figure of unreality, without existence.
I am fearful of the future as it fails to occur.
The passing of time impedes and its tracks are destroyed. 
I am illusory with no proof of previous existence
The mirror deceives me with the truth when I fail to recognise my reflected self
I am trapped within a body of the unknown 
I panic at the notion of impending doom
Sudden pulsations of blood travel rapidly to my heart 
My thoughts become lost in a wave of fear that crashes on the wall that borderlines my sanity and drowns optimism 
The hands that are no longer mine begin to shake as thousands of invisible knives plunge into them 
I close the eyes that were once mine and force my mind to grasp at the sanity I could never reach
Blood vessels burst to reveal shots of crimson that stray from the iris towards the outside of my eyes like shards of broken glass
My lungs refuse the captivity of the strong ribs, which encase them. They scream in protest and pound rapidly at the outer wall in an attempt to escape.
I am running from myself in fear of becoming nothing
Panic subsides only for unreality to reappear
I am trapped within a dream that came without sleep 
I yearn for a final chance at sanity
A destructive, yet effective tool to free me from this dream morphed nightmare
Sharp edges designed for efficiency but used to fuel insanity
This thin piece of sharpened cold steel I grasp is the pinnacle of reality
Placed too deep within this skin that is unreal and is unowned
Crimson floods of thinly textured bliss pour out of something real
Blood is real, therefore I am


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## Cam (Dec 13, 2006)

Wow, I understand


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## Angelique (Oct 30, 2007)

Does it matter to say I understand.... Does it matter to say I could have wrote that very same thing myself?? I don't know. I don't spend alot of time on this site.....but I always make sure to hit up the poetry section. Sometimes I feel like it is all we have......You did a great job with your descriptions...I am sorry for your pain. (hug)

Angelique


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## AllmindnoBrain (Jun 28, 2007)

this is my favorite poem on the site. I have a few scars on my arm from sharpened steal, only it was burning hot. a silly, but sometimes necessary thing to do.


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## AllmindnoBrain (Jun 28, 2007)

Your only 16 and you write like that??? Im impressed.


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## Guest (Jan 23, 2008)

That was unexpected :!: :!: :!:


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## Allikat84 (Jan 23, 2008)

I was so deeply moved by this poem. time has frozen before and myself, my mind never had the opportunity at the time to let it come back to life. "I am running from myself in fear of becoming nothing really hits home. when you have no memory, you just feel like you just woke up, you were real before but that memory fades within eternity. when your friend becomes a stranger, when you walk into another room and realized your soul has vanished from the one preceeding. you will never make it back to that one spot in time which your soul seemed to get trapped in, unless you go back and reclaim it. I do that. you will never be lost. because your soul will awaken from these dead spaces into another dead space and the nightmare will begin again.


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## fading (Apr 2, 2008)

"I am running from myself in fear of becoming nothing" 
Wow. Exactly.


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## ROTM (Apr 8, 2008)

"I am fearful of the future as it fails to occur. "

Is a powerful line, you have put into words the source of a lot of my tension... I am 19, healthy and attractive by most of the standards of people I've talked to, people cannot understand why I just don't "go do something" and it is because I am afraid. Every day for me is just like the previous one, with a few variations which are not substantial... all I can think about are recent events and only once I am reminded of them, and lately recent events have not been good at all... You are a very talented writer.


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## AllmindnoBrain (Jun 28, 2007)

I just want to comment once again how great this poem is. You need to continue to write, not just for you but for everybodies benefit.


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## Conjurus (Oct 25, 2008)

That's some good talent you have there. How long have you been writing if I may ask? I've only just started seriously writing this year, but I hope to be able to move people like you have. I really enjoyed your poem.


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## Surfingisfun001 (Sep 25, 2007)

holy.f.u.c.k.i.n.g.shit. this is good


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