My urges grow stronger
Impulsively they consume me
My demise is inevitable
Compulsively taking poison
Has ravaged my soul
There is nothing but pain
Destruction is imminent
Almost welcome
Feeling like an open wound in the world
Yet knowing this is all imagination
Or is it
Reality slips
As the poison is sipped
Injected, snorted
Just taken in
Not caring how it enters me
As long as I can exit my fears
With my wall down
I reach for the blade
And slowly drag it across flesh
Until deep warm red blood is felt and seen
Sensation
At last feeling
As time passes
The poison is no longer needed
I simply
Hide the exposed cuts
To conceal the real wounds
That are found within myself
I need help
But who can help
Without confining me to a padded room
I don’t need isolation
My mind has already separated me
From the outside world
I live like a captive animal
That has become agoraphobic
I am a prisoner of myself
Yet refused to be freed
Inner conflict
Stockholm syndrome
Whatever you call it
I am cutting it away
Tonight
I just have one question
If I have two sides
Captor and prisoner
Am I killing myself
Or am I committing murder

Casandra o’brien

 
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