Emotional Torture.

Carnival of nightmares.

I'm trapped on a never-ending cycle of twisted games, a merry-go-round at a carnival that was thrown by my anxiety to celebrate my failure. Whenever I think it's slowing down I find myself unable to unbuckle the belt that keeps me glued to my own doom. 

And whenever I get off or feel like I've pulled the switch on this obnoxiously loud and blinding feeling that won't go away, I find my thoughts in the form of guards, trapping me for longer. Making sure I try a different gloomy ride. 

They handcuff me as if I've stolen something of theirs when it's definitely the other way around, For they steal a part of me every day and keep it hostage, they hold a knife to my happiness' throat and a gun to my peace's forehead. 

I'm forced to keep hearing their whispers, riding a rollercoaster of feelings that changes structure on the daily, my thoughts, nerves and shaking hands are the architects of my life, they draw a different layout for me to get lost in whenever I feel like I've figured it all out. 

They love toying with me, monsters and demons, awake always and never batting an eye on detail they can use against me. Poor little me. Stuck in the hell I've built for myself. 

In my own carnival of nightmares.