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Damsel Consumed By Distress

Some people are forced to suffer alone.

By Monique StarPublished 5 years ago 1 min read
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The more people I seek,

The less visible I am.

The louder I cry for help,

The stronger the earplugs they put in

That are produced by the brand "Denial."

Their attempts to exorcise the demon

Only tears apart the heart of the victim:

"Your imagination can't hurt you"

"Once you grow to close your mind, it can't prey on you"

"You asked for its company by not painting yourself as strong"

"I am blind to it, so it doesn't exist"

The lines cymbal in my head

And the only escaped are blood from my ears.

I routine to the death before wake

And blanket myself with the monster's visit.

One evening, another entity joins me.

As I find worth in the mirror,

The entity puts a hand on my shoulder.

Rather than aiding me in escape, though,

It repeats the lines in my voice:

"Your imagination can't hurt you"

"Once you grow to close your mind, it can't prey on you"

"You asked for its company by not painting yourself as strong"

"I'm blind to it, so it doesn't exist"

Rather than soaked by tears,

My face is drought-ed by numbness

As if resistance broke before the mirror could.

I turn to my monster's habitat.

I take a few slow steps and think of its desires.

I open the door slowly

But a need for punishment is louder than hesitation.

For if no one wanted to dawn the knight's armor,

They spiced me up for my consumption by the beast.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Monique Star

I'm not the most sophisticated adult out there. I'm also not the best at communicating all the time, but I do try my best to get my thoughts out there into the world verbally or nonverbally.

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