The Real Me
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The visions get worse when you're
not around, crying, screaming,
torturous visions of death on
purpose, hatred and violence.
How easy it is to kill creeps
in, sweeping away common
sense and calm. Overtaken
by dark views of normal
children, smashed down,
torn from parents, swept
away by torents.
Nowhere to turn but you,
nothing calms me more, keeps
my thoughts clear. Am I
more than one, am I
someone else when you're
not here, who will save
me when you're gone, if I
can't save myself.
The visions get worse when night
comes around, bleeding, cursing,
clear as day thoughts of how
to cause harm, death, violence.
How easy it would be to just
pull the trigger, push off
the edge. Overtaken by
thoughts drumming my mind
in a beat faster and faster,
no way to stop the pain.
Nowhere to run but to you,
into your arms, into peace,
am I one who has no
control, one who needs
your boundaries to keep
me under control?
Will I ever know the real me?
Don't worry, I am fine, written for a writing assignment where my character assignment was a dual personality with one as a serial killer.
Copyright © Juli Freda | Year Posted 2020
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