Myself: My Greatest Enemy
Why do I feel nails scratching the inside of my head everytime the room is still?
I thought that I had just clipped them a little bit ago. They couldn’t have grown back already.
When will I see the angel that they said was always watching? Did I upset her with my choices?
Maybe my book wasn’t a long enough read for her. Chapters just get too hard to write.
Where could I run to hide from the faces of the people that I bruised and bloodied?
In the end it's my fault. I tied the rope and built the chair, they just set it up for me.
What kind of man chooses to comfort his demons instead of controlling them?
It’s much easier to smoke them out for a few hours than to exorcise them myself.
Who do I talk to when the distant whisper in the back of my head begins to tear its vocal chords?
But he has been fair to me, everytime he raises his voice, it's to offer a solution to silence it.
It’s unfair of me to feel this way all the time. The intensity of my battles pales compared to anyone else in this world.
I’m fed. I’m warm. I’m sheltered. It can't be that bad. It just can't be.
Posted Oct 29, 2022, 11:51 AM UTC