To My Relentless Brain:

Your anxious thoughts creep up on me when things are going good.

New subject of excitement; it doesn't matter.

Your bony, black exterior only reminds me of the downsides.

Your long, pointy fingertips pierce my heart, rendering me useless and miserable.

"It'll get better," they say

"Life has its good moments."

And maybe this is true but the 10 letter word that is your name?

Oh, I'm so grateful that you're here to make sure those phrases read false,

For you've instilled fear in me of disagreement. 

How do I enjoy the ups in life when you're anticipating the deep, deep downs?

My thoughts dance a beautiful dance, kiss my forehead, and hug me tight.

Sounds delightful, right? 

Every calculated footstep they take drags awfully dark circles around me,

creating juxtaposition between caring operation and torturous entrapment.

I fall into a black hole of sadness.

Your fingers suffocate my sides, causing a pain too real in my chest to be "imaginary"

or "ungrateful" as my family often names you. 

Besides, I know its in my head; I know its you.

But does it even matter anymore?

The damage is done.

You've won; you occupy every subject of my thinking

and I wait patiently for you to finish me.

I distance myself from friends and family that I know care about my well being.

But one day I'll care for my well being as well, banishing you from the very domain 

that controls my body. 

I'll rip open the thorned, black cage that you've created around my head. 

I'll sever the tar vines you've tightened around my brain for the past 4 years.

And regain myself. 

Sincerely,

Your Favorite Victim.