Mental Quicksand.
(TW: suicide mention-ish)
I try to move
but
I'm stuck.
Can't move.
Try to breath
But
can't.
I push
trying
attempting
wishing to getfreegetoutgoaway
but the mental Quicksand sucks me up.
"You're not good enough!"
"No one likes you!"
"You're a pathetic waste of space!"
and so
I stop struggling
and let the quicksand pull me under.
@angelheart2011 This is an intense poem. I love how you wrote "wishing to getfreegetoutgoaway"—it perfectly mirrors the feeling of sinking into quicksand, with no space to escape. The quicksand metaphor is so powerful, and the way you express the inner battle is incredibly relatable. Really appreciate how real and vulnerable this is. Also, please know that even when it feels like the quicksand is pulling you under, you're not a waste of space—you matter, and you're worthy of love and peace. Keep holding on.
@azurePond
thank you so so so much for your kind words, and thank you for telling me i'm not a waste of space. I really need to hear that some days. <3