2/8/2021
Torture
I swear I'm bipolar
At least in the winter
I've yet to observe my behavior
In autumn, summer, and spring.
This winter never ends
Ever brutal, ever cunning
The sun lies that it's warm outside
So that I freeze to death.
Staring at my reflection
As Snow wraps his chilly arms round me
I ask myself:
How is it that one person
Can be at war with herself?
How is it that her moods
Are a rollercoaster
One minute she's fine,
Another she's somebody else?
How is it that she can be happy
And bubbly to the point she's obnoxious
But within an hour come crashing down
Like a block tower in kindergarten?
A bundle of tantrums,
A packet of sugar-
She's sweet and funny and yet somewhere
Deep within her
There's a monster, an animal,
Hurt and screaming
Lashing out
Seeking a reason to continue existing.
She'd never give up, but she tires of fighting
Why do things have to be so confusing?
Why have I become so skilled at
Bending myself double
In all directions
Causing myself pain
Is it really worth the trouble?
Self-infliction, perhaps?
Unintended?
Subconscious?
Where does it come from?
Does it even matter?
Someone make it stop
It's getting too loud in here.
You threw me a life ring but the
Problem is
The rope it's attached to
Is the noose around my neck.
