Running Behind Hysteria Poem by Jessie Jett

I clutch my book
in my darkest hour.
Heaving out the sick words,
like vomit.

It covers me up.
Free the inside!
Hiding behind,
what smiles can be.

Only hiding behind the hysteria.
Hysteria leaves me binded.
Binded, like a book;
lost on a shelf.

Do not belittle your thoughts.
They capture you,
like prey.

A duct tape mouth,
cross stitched eyes;
constantly covering up inside.

How do you cleverly escape,
escape the intwinded and tangled words
of a complicated mind?