Forgiven Poem by Angela Brown

hold water in its cusp,
An understatement to many sleepless nights.
I am the measurement of hard times of matter,
From the amount of hours we spent together.
I ponder with unending emotion,
Through concurrent times. Many nights I attempted to
Contemplate suicide, as you watched me
Afraid to die in my sleep.

I pace, I pace my steps
Walking back and walking forth
I stand tall casing four blank walls
Each step I take in modesty.
Fidgeting hands, bad nerves
Fidgeting, anticipating the voices in my head.
Silence, I stare at a vacant room.
I answer my voice calling, calling, calling
Afraid of what I think, words trash back at me.
I must contain my hands,
I place them in my pockets.
I realize I am alone, alone
I contain my composure.
Silence I contemplate a motive
Trapped in an isolated
Asylum