Stalked by the Shadows

Negative self-talk 

is my native tongue.


My default mood 

is a defeatist attitude.


I spend forever fostering 

the festering wound and wonder 

why scabs never heal.


I ruminate on my failures,

chewing them until my teeth ache.


The pain is like a parasite

just under the skin, 

sucking out my lifeblood. 


A shell of a human,

stalked by the shadows.


They choke me like chains,

keeping me a prisoner to darkness.


They tear me apart,

limb from limb,

heart from mind.


I am broken and I don't know 

what it's like to be anything else. 


This is my only home;

there is serenity in sorrow,

peace in misery. 


I don't know if I can see myself

ever breaking free.

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