Thoughts Regarding My Prison 

It’s early, around 4 am and I can’t rest. My mind is restless and my heart is weary. I try until I bleed but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. I’m the mop and you drag me across the floor and then toss me to the side like I’m useless garbage. 

You use me over and over again. Saying I’m not enough. I’m not friendly. I don’t work hard enough. I don’t smile. I’m not involved enough. Whatever the reason of the month may be… You say the words and then tare me down. 

I’m used and treated like I don’t matter. But I want to matter. I need to matter. But there is nothing I can do.

So I paint on my face every dawn and cloak myself in the mess you have made of me. I drive to my prison in a sad robotic fashion. I do as you say and listen to your lies. Listen to another one of your reasons. You tell me to respect the crowd. Be the life of the party. Smile more. Laugh more. That I work to hard and not hard enough. You say that the apple of your eye needs feel safe with me and until he does my future is stalled. But what you don’t realize or fail to realize is that he is the rotten apple amongst the orchard. 

What do you want from me? To pledge my soul? To give until there is nothing left?

Well congratulations, you’ve almost won because I’m done fighting this war. 

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