Morph

Residuals float to the top of my thoughts,
fire inside, dying outside, cannot be me.
To be me means to be free, not allowed,
speaking out of turn is out of line, sadly.
Call me stupid, call me scum, I come undone,
at the seams every word rips a piece.
How many pieces does it take to break?
I do not know, lost count, not again, PLEASE.
Into madness, cast my shattered being,
thoughts where cutting and killing thrive.
Sling you up, slash your skin, feel the burn,
torch your hide, skin bubbles, I feel ALIVE.
Wrap my hands around your throat, flee,
run from life, leave this place, return to me.
Get back here, I am far from finished,
wake up because you will suffer identically.
I pull your hair this way and that, yank,
strands escape scalp, permitting a little red.
A river of your blood flows underneath,
your life starts to fade, finally, go to bed.
Sleep, for the morning brings much more,
your head is next upon the chopping block.
I call you weak, a pathetic excuse of life,
talk back and I will rip out your tick-tock.
You told me lies, kept me buried for years,
behind my shame, under my fears, you asshole.
Hypocrite, feels good this blade on your throat,
lie again, force false belief, I let loose your soul.
So many years, so many tears, salted this face,
pain, humiliation shame and justified hate.
Hit me, break my bones along with my pride,
slap me, kick me, my torture seals your fate.
I morph into madness.