Emotional victim

Sometimes I fight myself
The voices in my head shout sentences of guilt and anger.

The voices in my head love me despite myself
The voices on the street, they keep me from myself.
How can I let them know that I AM my own piece of mind.
It seems impossible because they all seem to speak of Saviour, redemption and freedom with such power.

The drugs are just lying there on the table,
from time to time I look at them.
With every glance of the perceived freedom, my mind silently ts-ks with grave disappointment

His sex takes me away from the internal fights, My mind resists again,
one last time fighting for its piece of mind, Successfully I push it away,
Mercifully I retreat to his gracious intimacy pretending to be alive

I wake up and my body looks the same,
It always seems to look the same, even after the drugs and the mysteries.

I take a shower,
Wash the invisible dirt off my mind firmly believes in.
I read and read, I write and write,
All the time trying to make up for the mistakes my mind firmly believes in.

day after day
no more fights with myself.
My mind has given up on me

Emotional victim of myself.
My mind has given up on me.