Torn Down

If you could see the demon claws
Shredding my soul, the way I know,
Exposing the real me, all my flaws,
Everything I try to hide, out for a public show,

They are just her innocent words,
Attacking me without intent.
She speaks them, not feeling how it hurts,
I misinterpret words she says, it’s not what she meant.

But my soul is torn down, bleeding,
I love her heart, her true purpose,
I hate her words, her tone,  its’ meaning,
I hate my feelings more:  me, the freak in hell’s circus.

4 thoughts on “Torn Down

    1. I almost wrote this yesterday, when I was feeling more angry, hurt and depressed and less “love is patient,” and when she had just said some mean shit and made me feel worthless. Instead I saved the title for today, and wrote something after she handed me a nicely encouraging greeting card. Silly thing like that turned my title around to a much more mature and understanding perspective. The demon of feeling worthless still sucks.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Very good prose…

    On a lighter note…”So many freaks, too few circuses.” We shall have to create our own and it will be the most amazing show on earth with pegacorns and uniuppies and camelraffes…Still think you’re freaky? You are but an amateur compared to my weirdness quotient, Luv. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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