The Echo Chamber

A poem about isolation

The Echo Chamber; Image created by Liora Writes using AI

As she watches—
tapping her foot,
impatient with places
she’d rather not be…

lights grow brighter,
sounds start to deafen—
I’m pulled back under
inevitably.

A mere outline—
she’s felt but not seen,
trick of illusion
who’s not really there.

When we’re alone,
she comes into focus,
all straitjacket style—
no face, crazy hair.

Tucked in a corner,
doors locked to the world,
everyone shut out—
she whispers to me.

She hijacks moments
I’m at my lowest—
twisting my words ‘til
I fear being free.

Buried down under
blankets and silence—
hidden from the world,
the shades pulled down tight.

Circular echoes
of my darkest thoughts,
her twisted voice
is mine in hindsight.

The further I sink—
into her despair,
the less I hear those
trying to help me.

Sunlight is her bane,
fresh air a toxin—
she retreats, sullen,
hating what’s healthy.

Feel my lungs filling
with air not tainted—
twisted voice quiet,
the peace is sublime.

Softly engage with
others to connect,
shatter her curses—
in the nick of time.

---

Author’s Note:

This was one of my regular roommates for a long time. I hid from the world—got so bad I wouldn’t even answer the phone. It just felt safer than risking more hurt when I was already so vulnerable. It took time and effort to climb back from that ledge.

I still value my solitude, but it’s no longer filled with the same circular, self-defeating noise. Things can get better—one step at a time.
Be well, my friends.
— Liora

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