My heart is frozen in time.
Stuck in the past,
And unable to move on.

My thoughts are frozen in time.
They stop working,
And just stay the same.

My eyes are frozen in time.
Forever showing the things I wish to forget,
And not seeing what’s ahead.

My body is frozen in time.
Stuck in place,
And unable to move.

My brain is the only thing still functioning and it’s making me mad, for why can’t I just relax? It won’t stop going on and on and on and on till the point my mind is just a jumbled mess. Why can’t I just have a point of relaxation a time for me to rest and enjoy my life instead of being pressured all the time when will I have my time?

And until then I’ll be frozen in this terrible time.

Acne,
Such a pain, reminding me,
Of my imperfections.
Please leave me be,
This insurrection.
Entrapping me,
In captivity.
Such misery,
Every time I look,
In the mirror,
Another reminder.
Such imperfection,
Fills me with trepidation.
Why must you torture me?
Why can't you just leave me be?

A silent god, both mute and deaf. You only speak to me with your hands, with the soft trailing pads of your fingertips.
burning, scorching, tearing the flesh from my skin. You split me open, Moses and his ****** red sea.

You dissect, examine. You sew up. You do not put back together. Or maybe you do but wrong. All my organs out of place. Dirt swimming in my intestines. So wrong I rip myself back open to make it right. Rip until I can't taste the lavender on my tongue.

You don't wear gloves. You don't Because you don't care, or maybe because you do. Because it won't matter, or because it matters too much. Because this isn't dissection this is ****. Because this is your hands inside me. Because this is the satisfaction of stealing the last thing that was mine, the last pure part of me. This is you staring desperately into the murk hoping to see something, this is the horror of seeing nothing but tar.

Inside the insane asylum,
That I go to five days a week.
Straightjacket tight,
I can barely breathe.
Listening to all the inmates,
Contemplating all their mistakes,
I can’t even sleep.
They continuously repeat,
The same lines over and over again.
When is my reprieve?
Better be soon, before my mind turns to a ruin.
“Blah, blah, blah.”
That’s all I hear.
Their voices, drowning out,
Every other peaceful sound.
“Blah, blah, blah, blah.”
I feel the blood flow from my ears,
As I look to the ground,
And fade into the background.
Can’t believe I still have a couple years.
When I break free, will my fears control me?
Sometimes it feels like I’m surrounded by,
Sheep that would just follow the crowd,
Till they died.
Am I going crazy…?
Or is it just all hyperbole…?