A dark hooded figure mirrors my every move,
Invisible to all except myself.
She believes she’s my protector,
Yet she pulls me
Into a pit with no way out.
Compulsions bring me temporary comfort
In exchange for a life of misery.
Out of my very own volition,
I take the easy street.
I drink from her goblet of lies –
The gold liquid sweet to the taste.
I don’t realize it’s poison, yet I gulp them down all the same.
You touched the door.
You are contaminated.
Not good enough.
I wash again.
My obsessive thoughts are like a movie reel
Except now they are ablaze,
Set alight by a burning orange glow.
The flickering flame casts long shadows,
A mere memory now of the compulsions I am so desperately attached.
I seek control in a world that cannot be contained.
Where I go
The Shadow reigns and I am her subservient.
Like Medusa, she has the power to turn me to stone,
Yet I am still awake, watching
Unable to control the world around me.
Unwanted, grotesque images and
Unruly thoughts pull at my sanity
And question my humanity.
I perform my rituals like a well-rehearsed dance.
Curtains open, a waft of orchestral music fills the stage.
I am burdened with the knowledge that I’m merely a puppet,
The bourgeoisie of my life holds the strings.
She takes control of my body, my spirit.
I will not be forced to learn this ungodly dance!
I am no longer the conductor of my own symphony.
Curtains close and I am left with nothing more than a shadow of myself.