I'm sinking further and further until it completely consumes me.
Now i no longer exist.
I suffocate as i try to find my way back to reality.
But, no matter how hard i try i can't escape my mind.
I'm in a Prison.
thoughts flying through my mind at a speed like no other.
You're worthless.
Why are you even trying?
You're making a fool of yourself.
Everyone's watching you struggle.
You're Pathetic.
And only when i fleet the scene can i put my grasp back around reality.
Until what happens today repeats itself.
It's my normality.

He hides in my closet
he has a scary look
with ridged nails
and pointy sharp white teeth

But he is shy and doesn't come out
till nightfall
when no one can see him
because he is insecure
and he doesn't want to be made fun of
by the other monsters who wander around

Every time I hear him come out
he is humming a tune
I would softly request him to sing
because I cannot sleep
when he would open his mouth

Wonderful words would come out
sounding excellently in tune
even though there was no background music
in my head, his singing sounded like a symphony
was playing the most lovely melody

If I could I would stay up all night
till dawn
when he would retreat back into the closet
I would listen to him all night

But as he sings
the melody floods me
and my eyes can not stay open
as I slip into a deep slumber
I would still hear him singing

When I wake up
my room is soundless
I would look in my closet to see if he is there
but he is hidden
where I cannot find him

Are you going to leave me?
Am i pretty?
Am i fat?
Actually, Do i eat enough?
Should i do that?
Do i deserve him?
Why am i so bad at everything?
Am i just not good enough for the world?
I dont think i could ever do that...
If i could though i might actually be good at it

Left all alone I continue to erode
My eyes find all my flaws
My mind dips into my insecurities

-no one actually cares for you-

I'd believe it if I was told so
I wish I wasnt anchored onto others
For validation to stay afloat
If left alone I succumb to demons
My brain starts to heat
My eyes become wet
Chip- chipping away at me
Me- who trip-trips over her own feet
Crackle- and- Sparkle as I smile
As though sludge is my brain matter
Sewage floods in my veins
My heart- soul- mind just decay

I've degraded my body so much i don't see it as art
They ask me whats wrong and im not sure where to start
always been missing a piece of me since me ans KJ been apart
i know he rolling over in his grave
i miss who i was , i hate how i behave
everything i do is wrong
yet nothings in my control
what am i pose to do when you find me boring and dull
cant say i use to be happy because happy is something i don't know
im the victim but you play my role and steal the show

i'm not giving up
if i never had any hope at all

i'm worried about disappointing You
You care about me and that’s scary
i'm unpredictable
i'm unstable
i'm unreliable

You are so perfect to me
i can't stand to watch you worry your beautiful head over me
i will always be okay
i promise

I’m sorry for the ways you’ve seen me:
Mascara running down my face,
Nails scratching my stomach,
And raging mad with red-hot face.

I wish I could take back
The words I’ve said,
But I know I’ll say them again
For only us to hear.

I’m sorry for the thoughts
That I know you’ve heard—
Or at least recognized
Through the looks you’ve come to know.

I’m sorry that you know me
Better than any actual person.
It isn’t your fault,
And I’m so sorry.

~Audra

Through my own tyrannical enforcement
I spew insipid scripted statements
I do not support nor enjoy.
Afraid to be aberrant
Oppressed I am pushed to lecture repugnant contradictions against my own disposition.
Turgid loathing of the fear of dropping the expected facade
Supported by ego and enforced by group-think to mold a homogenous majority.
I hate self pity.
Here marinating in my own self indulgent sorrow.
I am a hypocrite.
Another one of my enemies.
But weakened by forcing myself to state the opposite of what I value,
I open myself to further self destruction.
Through this introspection I might be able to reclaim my social autonomy.
Possibly at the cost of diminution of social impression.
That is held at such divine standards today.
I might become a social martyr.
But at least I’d die complete and confident in my own voice.
It would open me to ridicule.
But I’d rather understand myself and be subjected to hate than to live objectively in a self confined contrived reality.