'I don't want to burn...'

Otto flew onwards.
It was a joyous flight.
Then trouble hit again.
His other worst fear.
Engine failure!

Must land.
Where where where?
Altitude has gone.

Trees are so close.
Wrong place to crash!
Touching close.

Want to close my eyes.
But I must to see my end.
Drop the ***** to glide longer.

There!
A field.
Thank God!

I can make that.
Keep the nose down.
Don't want to stall.

I can do this!
Dead stick landing.
I was trained for this.
Here we go!
Bump!

Bump and slide.
**** that's rough.
My warplane is sliding.
Come on now, stop!

Oh crap!
A ditch, right across the...

Mama save me again!
I don't want to die.
Mutti!

Otto came too and shook his head.
His vision was blurred and pained him.
A sweet smell wafted towards him.
The drip of petrol was audible.

He panicked and dug at the brown earth.
It was mixed with broken Perspex, above him.
Undoing his straps, Otto tried to escape.
The broken canopy trapped him.

Drip drip drip went the gas.
Then... just out of his vision.
A boy, aged about eleven.

Help! Help me! Hurry. Please!

The boy ran over.
Looked at the inverted plane.
And saw the trapped pilot.
Did he know that Otto was the enemy?
And had killed his father?

Otto flung off his flying goggles.
They made eye contact.

Help me! Hurry now.

The boy found a steel bar.
With the intelligence of the young,
he levered against the wing.
It leant against the ditch edge.
Moved with a sickening jolt.

There was a gap.
It was enough.

Otto dug at the earth and cut his hand.
Bending double, he crawled out.

Drunkenly standing, he looked at his plane.
He shook his head and felt his broken ****** nose.
Then fell to his knees and vomited.
Fractured ribs knifed him.

Otto passed out.
When he looked up, the boy was gone.
Without him, I'd be dead...

They were opened,
Revealing a world in constant motion,
Colored and coated with this commotion,
Gripped and grabbed by the chosen,
Opened, but blinded,
Taken and tried, ignited,
A time before, I didn't mind it,
But now I mind it

I was better together and intact,
But now I wonder if I have even my own back,
Always feeling so stuck in this reality,
Confined, is this how it's supposed to be?

Feels like a day that lasts forever,
Losing time, guess erase the never,
Where did my mind go, lost my sanity,
Could I do anything to finally be free?

Could it be any better, I always ponder,
Maybe this is a test disguised as a taunter,
I feel it's getting harder to clearly even see,
Feelings confined in things that used to be normal to me...

Scrolling through the past
Is informational
It reminds us of who we once were
And who we've become
Rediscovering feelings
We had almost forgotten we had
And we'd shared them with the world
And we didn't do half bad
I thought I'd never escape her
Her iron grip leaving bruises where she held us
But we did
We made it
Life got a little better for it too

We aren't fixed
We are still sad
We still have depression
But it's not as bad as it was
She's gone from our lives
Our abuser
Tormenter
Stepmother

And she dares to call herself a fighter

I will watch my ways
and keep my tongue from the delights of this world.
I will put a muzzle on my mouth
as long as she dwells within.
Show me, my life's end
and the number of my days.
Each mans life is but a breath
man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro;
He bustles about, but only in vain.
Your invasion consumes me
You rebuke and discipline me
You **** every last breath out of me.
Slowly trapping me, until i become  no more.
Look away from me, that i may rejoice again
before i depart and am no more.

Reaching from my bed,
disguised as safe space,
gradually releasing its poison.

Paralyzing my mind, body and soul
and inexorably imprisoning my whole.

Eventually dropping out of bed,
I continue my daily walk to the toilet.
A gnomish little space.
No windows,
no colours,
no sink,
no outside world.
Merely three walls and a squeaking door.
Isolation at its finest.

Progressing to the kitchen,
I find a room filled with triggers and false comfort,
followed by attacks of anxiety, loneliness and failure.

Eventually ceasing back
to my seemingly soothing safe space.

Yielding into reoccurring patterns
of soul *******.

Drowning in feelings of guilt and self-harm.