My (In)Stability

Writing without wanting, writing without will, I turn out another piece of garbage, another piece for burning-I can’t rhyme, I can’t reason, I don’t know why. Why do I bother? Why even try?

I feel it shouting, screaming, taunting laughing “YOU CAN’T! YOU CAN’T!” as it shouts in glee and tries to hand another razor blade to me. “You’re worthless and weak and won’t amount to much, look how many you’ll help if only you put a little touch, a tiny bit of red across that pale wrist, they’ll hardly notice you’re gone, you’re really not one to miss.”

I hear it shouting and screaming and laughing at me, this doubt that I live with, every damning day, every day it screams and screams, waiting for me to see. Waiting for me to know as it does, my purpose is nothing, I’ll never amount to much, a little bit of red really should be the final touch. It’s not very poetic, it’s not my best work, but really my response is short and simple and something that works.

Fuck off.

My Worst Enemy

I shudder and shake, my skin is no home

My body is no shrine

Unless you count it as defiled, this despairing temple of mine.

Cracking foundations and crumbling walls

Haunted hallways hide nothing at all

My words echo throughout this failing facade

My form does crack as the laughter moves on

No, my skin is no home and my mind is not safe

Not when it’s my words, my own thoughts

That so haunt me when I’m awake

My own voice does mock, my own fist does pain

No, my body is no temple, for it’s been defiled, degraded

And it was my own self that did cause this fate.