Murder of My Soul

Not intentionally and beyond realization with every subtle breath I commenced to murder my soul with acts that are unlike commonality like a wielding knife churning in the mid-section of the human soul the murder was intimate and most un-endearing as unsettling as it may seem those behaviors and decisions that are made unjustifiably contrary to all morality my innermost being bled and my soul was dying an untimely death Resurrection seemed to be denied time after time after time I now walk amongst the living with a butchered, decapitated soul Effortless attempts to revive as its slippery cover slides through irrevocable hands Mirrored only by demeaning cares and unmentionable thoughts the murder was eminent since the moment of my birth How come no one stopped me? Is it really true that they could not see? Or is it possible that the intense presence of a soul’s murder would allow the witnesses to be free?