He's trying to **** you
slay you
cut you down to the frayed you
wants you to be you but just not the real you
but the fake you with the plastered smile
chew up your soul and spit it out
swallow the key to your self esteem's door
take away your home
walk his walk
the walk of shame but you'll always be the one to blame
talk his talk, silver tongue
think the way he do
don't feel
don't have emotion
stepford wifey, plastic barbie
do as i say or you're ******* royally
You can't be you
Be broken with no hope of being put back together
And by the way only God can save you
And if things don't go his way look out
you'll be under his attack
under his thumb
numb
In fear,
so accept defeat on your knees
He goes for your heart and your soul
In a fight he goes for the throat
He's seeking to destroy any and all self worth  
How anyone dare defy him
you're always the crazy one
no one could ever love you more
No one is better
He'll cut you down
with his narcissistic, sadistic ways
and go for your throat with words that cut
like a double edged sword

You're wrong
It's your fault
Don't blame me
Get on your knees
Pride
It's not me it's you
Round two
Why
Why, why, why
No hope
Start back at square one
Let's try this again
Blame
You, me
Sinners, sin
God war we begin
The bible says
God's word
In one ear
Judge
Harshly every sin
Commited
Forgive me but not you
Halalujah
Submission

I rise and then I fall
I run and stall
Start and go
But always break down
Somewhere along this road
Always falling short
No victory for me is ever won
I rise and I fall
Riding this fence as far as I can go

Must this be such a constant battle
Must we struggle
and to continue to trudge
through yet another humdrum day
When do we escape an engulfing past
that haunts our tired minds relentlessly?

Today,
I am anxious and worried.
I am unsettled and “on edge,”
I am terrified because I feel “it” coming.
I am on the cusp of another anxiety attack.
I am about to weather another cold, dark and dismal depressive storm.

I work.
I cook,
I clean,
and while I sometimes forget to do the dishes or dry the laundry —
while I forget to eat —
I have managed to purge my home,
rearrange the closet,
and clean the bathrooms.
It’s like I’m prepping and nesting.
I’m preemptively taking care of my space.
But I know I can’t keep up this pace.
I can’t outrun it and
I cannot stop it and,
the truth is,
that scares me.
I scare me.
Especially now.
Especially during this storm.

I find myself struggling to catch my breath.
I feel numb and lonely.
I stay in bed more,
but sleep less.
I question my faith,
my value,
my worth.
I cry over stupid ****,
like burnt out lightbulbs and unanswered texts.
I cry over important ****,
like love and money.
And I cry because I am crying.
I become reclusive
because this weather makes it easy to isolate myself.
I look for any and all the excuses I can—
the excuses I long for —
the excuses I need to cancel plans and just hide beneath the covers.
I am a chemically and emotionally imbalanced mess.
But what can I do to stop it?
How can I save myself?
I can’t.
I can run
and work
and take my medication,
but I cannot do one **** thing to stop this storm,
nor can I avoid it.
All I can do is hold on and wait for “it” to hit.
All I can do is hold on and try:
try to brace myself and trudge through,
try to keep myself accountable and afloat.
All I can do is breathe and weather yet another storm.

Sometimes i think the bitter in me is the quitter in you
Sometimes I think the bitter in you is the quitter in me
And it's bigger than the both of us could ever be.

Taking my pill
Sometimes I forget
That's okay I guess
Getting wasted on wine
Another day
And it won't ever change
And it hurts all the same
Losing my way
Feeling afraid.