The tears, they sting like acid as they pour out your eyes.
Tremors, like earthquakes, violently wrack your frame.
Breathing comes in ragged gasps, as if choked by unseen hands.
Hands that you've created yourself in the murky depth you call your mind.
You suffocate yourself, with assumptions and accusations.
Everyone looking about, whispering to one another, judging.
Your heart rate races and you become skittish and weary of all.
Paranoia roots deep within your heart, piercing like spikes of gold and rust.
And alone, oh how alone you feel in the world you've woven around you.
No one knows your struggles, not even yourself in a clear fashion.
You crave the touch of another, consolation and affection and trust.
But trust, where is the trust? Away, everyone gets pushed away.
Pushed away, or do they run at the first chance they get?
Because in the mirror all that has ever looked back at you, a monster.
It's vicious some days, pathetic others, always ugly, always wounded.
It's the one you've mashed together, as if you were Frankenstein himself.
The shackles that cut your skin and hold you down, you forged them yourself.
The poison that clouds your mind and veils your heart, you are the one who lets it stay.
There are demons living within you, and they might as well have bought the penthouse suite.
Because at the end of the day, the old cliche is true: You are your own worst enemy.