Taunting me...

Mocking me...

Ripping away my emotions,
Like clockwork,
As if possession was never really mine.

Always testing my wavering sanity,
Or possibly even my questionable worthiness.

Using maniacal unpredictability to ensure complete drainage of hope from this body,
A shell,
that I’m convinced is nothing more than a broken well trained slave.

The remnants of skin and bones before me,
Now controlled,
By this viscous evil force,
Laughing through my veins.
Breaking free just to assert dominance.

Oxygen as an accomplice,
Pigments the hue that provokes me.
Victim to manipulation,
Red fuels my rage.

Curious...
Was this imprisonment foretold,
Or am I to blame?