Her

These waking nightmares.
The way you look at me from across the room.
The emptiness I feel in this world.
Such a dark, mistrusting world.
She wraps her cold hands around me.
She like to squeeze me till I have nothing left, no breath, no heart, no care.
She teases me with pleasures that I am clearly not meant to have.
Dangles the string right in front of my face, and she laughs as she pulls it away.
I was meant to be like this.
I must accept this.
I was meant for tears, not joy.
All I see is chaos surrounding me and not even the slightest bit of help to pull me out.
They question why I react the way I do.
They wonder why I dont trust.
They want to know the reasons for my actions.
If you saw the world through my eyes you would understand.
If you could step into my body for a day, feel what i feel, dont feel what i dont feel, then you would know.
My reactions might be rash to you, but its how I scrape by, trying to survive in this cold, heathen world you all live in, so simply.
Abused and used I lay in the proverbial gutter of this life.
Surely, in the next life I will be something far more beautiful and something with much less pain.
Maybe I wont be recreated.
Maybe my reward for being toyed with at every corner of my life will just be to not have to exist in this cruel world.
As I write these words I feel her cold embrace upon me again.
I feel the pain taking over.
Your answer is to just not live it, just dont remember.
Impossible.
But cute that you think I can just turn off my brain like that.
For now I guess I will play her games.
Her games that leave me cold an numb.
Her games she always wins in.