Detatchment and wishing illusions
I morph into different people to distance from myself
When I truly return inside the rage is blinding
The loathing is unimaginable
Twisted vines with thorns wrap themselves around my lungs, suffocating me and digging into me ever so deeply
The demons tug at my legs, their strength gradually increasing enough to bring me to the floor
I long to scratch myself up as they wish, as I deserve, until they allow me to jump out of my own skin
I long for my soul to be heard
My true self isn't enough, it's infuriating
They have taught me that time and time again
What a pity it is, you silly little lady
Do you really think this torture will stop
When it's all
You are built for

The human life is so very strange
We are all filled with such different things
Different desires, different perceptions
Different scenes and experiences
Different pains and different demons
It's baffling, isn't it?
How we all live in the same world with one another, yet completely different worlds in our psyche
How our fates are tied with certain people temporarily, or perhaps forever although it's rare
We all have memories we will carry to the grave, memories that will carry on even after death
And those who are born after us may find our gravestones one day
And not think a thing of it.

You stare at your own work until you hate it,
Sit for so long you forget why you waited
Hold your tongue instead of speaking your mind
Longing to move forward, but remaining behind.