I am being tortured by choice.
I have screamed until not even the slightest whimper can escape my lips.
And I lie there silent, telling myself
That it's fine.
I want this.
Don't I?
I shake there violently
Waiting for some reprieve,
While knowing all the while that it will never come.
I sit there, shivering.
Surrounded by unwanted emotions and
Waiting patiently for the next blow against my pale, fragile spine.