Mental Anguish

Mental anguish is all pain,

So thick it chokes you,

So fiery it burns one's insides

With anger and wrath and self-hate,

Twisting its way through

As a knife would its victim,

And yet twice as lethal,

Never once breaking the skin.

It hides from their naive sight,

Burrowing into your heart and

Making every beat a chore,

Every intake of breathe, forced.

Its skillful fingers pluck out your eyes

And replace them with its own,

Only seeing in blood and black;

All light is veiled.

Now shrouded in darkness,

You are susceptible to its barbed and wicked tongue,

Whispering cruel nothings into your mind's ear,

Poisoning your confidence and wilting the flower

That is your material virtue.

All things desirable crumbling from within,

Perpetually wet eyes now acridly dry

As the desperation has all leaked out,

Leaving behind a perfect, barren shell,

Which now retains only a demon within,

If left to its own devices.

Why can't it leave?

Why must it persist to reside within?

Tear it out by any means:

Cut it out and watch it escape in blood,

Leap away from it, leaving it behind you,

Along with everything else.

Just don't allow it to consume you,

For its ruthlessness will erase you.

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