Crushed

My ego is a crippled creature, A monstrous malingering monger of misery, Shriveled, decrepit, it sits hunched between my heart and stomach, A squat grey toad with bulbous dispirited eyes Ugly, riddled with the cankerous sores of self loathing It governs me, Assuming its dominion with a cruel unwavering ferocity, Subtle, insidious, it sends out its tendrils of crushing contempt Coiling them about my heart and mind until they can scarcely breathe Cutting off the sunlight, cooling the blood that flows skittishly in my veins Convincing me of my worthlessness, Reminding me, Over and over and over, How ugly I am, how pathetic It jeers at me with those wet dark eyes, A gaping crimson slash of a mouth opening to spill poisonous cruelty ‘How dare you think you are worth anything?’ ‘How dare you presume anyone could love you?’ ‘How dare you impose yourself on those higher beings – your loved ones?’ Rebuffed, reproached, reviled, I heed the mocking hisses And shrink away, Imploding, collapsing into myself, like an unwanted building crumbling to the ground In a cloud of dust and decay I begin to walk with hunched shoulders, To keep my eyes riveted on the ground beneath my feet, To recoil from eye contact as if it could burn my fragile retinas, And all the time my ungainly awkward footsteps beat a rhythmic tattoo – ‘You’re worthless, you’re worthless, you’re worthless…’