there is a black hole in my chest, a titanium bullet in my heart, and a quicksand in my head.
i am in a trance in which I am forced to confront the negative obscurities of life's lonesome voyages.
there is a constancy: the raft of dysphoria, paralyzing my body and using it, as if life is a puppet show and I am the puppet.
i am a facade with a malevolent puppeteer, controlling the actions that my faltering bones partake in.
he knits my lips together with his soft wool yarn dipped in ombre blue dye.
he builds a soft gray doll house to shelter me and leaves stainless steel bars to guard me.
he adheres me to the crib that he constructed, so I will be taunted by his insidious laughter.
he decorates my king-sized bed with the aroma of a thousand roses and convinces me of the hell-bound world beyond this desolate chamber.
he tells me that the world is just a masquerade ball and to be pure, I must be devoid of all contact.
he bombards and fills my inside with his animosity.
my puppeteer is teeming with greed; he is zealous.
he wants me to obliterate aspects of my life so he can make room for his ideals.
he denies me of my self worth, as he constantly tries to perfect me to his standards.
he controls.
my puppeteer is continuously trying to engrave himself into my life.
he whispers lies into my ears until I take it in as the truth.
i am struck by the uncanny romance of his bittersweet words.
i have fallen in love with this gloomy kiss of death.
i ache to feel because after all the torment, he feels like home.
i am in a trance in which I am forced to confront the negative obscurities of life's lonesome voyages.
there is a constancy: the raft of dysphoria, paralyzing my body and using it, as if life is a puppet show and I am the puppet.
i am a facade with a malevolent puppeteer, controlling the actions that my faltering bones partake in.
he knits my lips together with his soft wool yarn dipped in ombre blue dye.
he builds a soft gray doll house to shelter me and leaves stainless steel bars to guard me.
he adheres me to the crib that he constructed, so I will be taunted by his insidious laughter.
he decorates my king-sized bed with the aroma of a thousand roses and convinces me of the hell-bound world beyond this desolate chamber.
he tells me that the world is just a masquerade ball and to be pure, I must be devoid of all contact.
he bombards and fills my inside with his animosity.
my puppeteer is teeming with greed; he is zealous.
he wants me to obliterate aspects of my life so he can make room for his ideals.
he denies me of my self worth, as he constantly tries to perfect me to his standards.
he controls.
my puppeteer is continuously trying to engrave himself into my life.
he whispers lies into my ears until I take it in as the truth.
i am struck by the uncanny romance of his bittersweet words.
i have fallen in love with this gloomy kiss of death.
i ache to feel because after all the torment, he feels like home.
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