The Batt;e

by caver dema

December 15, 2015

When I’m bored

I look

I look for imperfections

Imperfections I can perfect

Perfect what is already perfect

It doesn’t make sense to others

But it does to me

I look with my eyes

Or feel with my fingers

For something that I perceive is there

But it isn’t

It doesn’t make sense to others

But it does to me

I perfect something new

Or something old

It doesn’t matter

As long as I perfect myself

No one understands me

But I do

The sensations of perfecting

Is a relief

Until I look at the damage

All the scabs and scars

All over my body

I hate it

But it’s me

I wish to stop

It’s like an addiction

Or disorder

I don’t know

I just know I can’t

I’ve tried so many times in the past

Always a failure

I’ve just given up on trying

What’s the point?

If you always fail

I know I need help

But they refuse to see it as a problem

I’m the only one who sees it that way

A monster I can’t defeat on my own

They think I’m like goliath and it’s David

I’m really the rest of the army

The ones who is scared of trying to defeat him

Because he will smother me into the ground.

I’m his slave

I’m its slave

I’m not in control of me

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