Death Dealer 

You came back with a vengeance, everything is all the more darker in your presence.
I thought I could outrun you, that your sadistic brand of misery was far behind me.
Although I’ve been in your presence before (for you never truly left), I feel as though I cannot take the pressure this time around, the darkness all the more consuming.
My body bends, breaks at your will, for you all I can think about whilst under your influence, controlling my every thought, my every action, exposing my every fear. 

It feels as though you’ve been with me for a lifetime, hiding, waiting in dormancy for the right time to strike, to deal death.
For when I am under your pressure I feel as though that release is far superior to the agony.
With this unexpected visit comes a brand new symptom, because was better to accompany your crippling twisting and turning than isolation? 

While I want with every once of my being to be out in the open (free in some sense of the word), I know that it would be best to keep my distance, for it’s all too certain that I can’t function normally with you around.
The face that I put on, the one that I have tried to perfect for years on end, is beginning to slip, beginning to bring the emotional agony you’re inflicting to life. 

You came back with a vengeance, making everything all the more darker.
You reignited every fear, every instinct to run and hide.
And yet I remain. 

© Copyright July 2017/November 2017/January 2018/March 2018


Crying out in all my valiant efforts at something better, only to find that the latter is so much worse.
Immerse me in my hopes and your misgivings, and tell me this is the best I can do.
Spill all of my intentions and pride on something counter-productive and play me for a fool.
Immerse me in your petty tragedies and every truthful lie that goes with them, only to be disappointed by my indifferent response. 

What the fuck are you here for?

Crying out in all my steadfast efforts at something of substantial purpose, only to be graced by the presence of everything that ever disgusted me.
Immerse me in the deepest of clarities, every gray area and tell me there’s nothing left.
Spill all of the contents of my heart and laugh in my face, so incredibly absorbed in your twisted labyrinth of self-righteousness. 

Who the fuck do you think you are? 

Crying out in all my valiant and steadfast attempts, pleading for some kind of rhyme or reason, I realize that you’re just as low as I am.
Resting beneath the surface, masked by your unassuming exterior, there is a hurt so strong, one that is so well contained, only to be seen a flicker at a time. 

Were we all made to suffer, and if so, for how long?

© Copyright December 2012/November 2017/January 2018/March 2018