It is a constant pressure underneath my breastbone
That whispers evil at all hours of the day
'I could rip the life from a human without remorse'
'I could bleed them out with a smile on my face'
It is an unending notion in every corner of my brain
That, had I the motivation, I would immediately claim
'I could ingest a deadly concoction and disappear in a second'
'I could enact any complicated process that ends with me slain'
It is a nightly terror that follow me through daybreak
That renders me speechless with both fear and liberation
'I could let go of control and forget about mere consequence'
'I could finally allow my brain to drown in this sensation'
Homicidal. Suicidial. Manical.
I exercise control against these urges.
Massacre. Exhaustion. Insanity.
I wonder when I will forget this.
My sister, for the first time realized I was not and am not joking. She insisted that none of the aforementioned urges are commonplace. I was not aware of how much I valued the illusion of normalcy until I was informed it was little more than a pipe dream.