This insidious slithering being
rises inside of me guaranteeing
to extinguish the light that was once inside
and leave a hole where my soul no longer resides.

Our marriage is less about the rings and ink on paper
and more about the unity between two souls that will never taper,
and two hearts that beat as though one,
bound together by a connection that can't be outdone.

Our love is the beautiful warmth of the morning sun blazing,
and the burning inferno of passion within us rising.
Togetherness, to us, means peace, happiness and love that feels like home,
bringing colour to each other's lives in a world that was once so monochrome.

The burning liquor slides down the back of her throat
as euphoria sweeps over her like an antidote
for the despair within her very soul -
and now she’s no longer in control.
She doesn’t drink because she likes the taste
but to forget every single trauma she has faced.

And by starving and purging my body - driven by a need to be thin,
I only end up feeding and giving life to the demons within
that haunt my mind and crawl beneath my skin.

She's not made of sugar and spice
or everything nice.
She's made of blood stained dresses
and matted, unkempt long tresses,
skin tattooed with markings made with a blade
and a body and mind that have decayed.
All alone in a raging war against her own being,
she has a distorted view of the world she's seeing;
thinking that the world is a better place without her in it,
she's mutilating every part of herself bit by bit.