To The Survivor of a Tattered Mind

 

The keeper of my heart and fallen dreams; the tormentor of my shattered soul

I need you to stop erecting mansions of doubt in my mind ...
to stop selling my fears and desires to the highest bidder and stop digging tunnels of pity in the crevices of my shallow veins

You have become comfortable in my silence and accustomed to the salty taste of my wounds and bruised ego

You enjoy seeing me squirm begging for reprieve from your relentless battle on my psyche...
The deeper the words , the lower my resilience becomes, making me a victim in your mind games

In your world, my roses become weeds, entangling me until the only escape is death

You flood my positivity and determination until I am left drowning in self-pity submerged by my own heavy burdens and defeated will ...

Yet I bury myself in your fragrance, enjoying the sympathy darkness brings and Inhale your excrement as if they were wildflowers

Some days I can tuck you away like a secret hidden in my heart, yet other days you make yourself known; choking the very life from me until my hidden insecurities become visible scars tattooed on my future, engrained in my being

My weak pleas of surrender cannot silence your persistent wailings

You claw and paw at my fragile heart devouring it like a death row feast

Savoring the morsels of my self-doubt and self -hatred
Counting the days and minutes until peace and happiness are murdered from self-inflicted wounds