The black ink lurks
beneath my skin,
waiting to set free
my soul, my everything, me.
It makes me see
things that aren't there,
things that a crazy
person would see. Not me.
I can feel it,
slithering and slashing
my light, waiting
for the right moment to take me.
I can feel the way
it beats against my heart,
the way it sheds,
the way it screams for mercy.
It wears me out,
it makes me lethargic,
causes me to feel
anything but happiness.
I've been fighting
this monster for far
too long, so maybe
it's time to let it win.
But I won't let it win,
because I'm stronger than it,
and I can conquer it.
No way will it kill me.
No way will I let it murder,
I'll kill it myself if I must,
if only I can just close my eyes,
but I must fight or perish.
My lips are bleeding,
My brain is slowing,
My poison is spreading,
My lungs are collapsing.
I will see them again,
I will run again,
I will scream again.
I have conquered.
