freedom for the captives

mental illness,

i think you knew this was coming.

one day, eventually - i would have the courage to say - enough.

i have suffered under your control ever since i can remember.

though i am older, i still feel the effects of your grip, like boney fingers around my throat. memories - hidden away, but never forgotten. i have developed a deep hatred for you.

as a kid i witnessed the power and strength you displayed, as you kept us in line, cowering and begging for relief that never came.

smiles and solitude kept questions and speculations away. sure, we loved, and felt love, until you craved control. then we reverted to the familiar paths that provided us a sense of protection.

no one knew, no one.

she was your tool, your muse. you used her pain and insecurities to fulfill your filthy desires. and she was good at it.

mother of six, two sets of twins, alone. her support left, gone for days at a time, working, leaving her in a vulnerable place - in your grasp. alone and hurting.

had it been today, there would have been aid, medical help to put you in chains to stop your destruction. death is what you deserve. but without harming your host, taming you is what we settle for.

she fought you her entire life, apologizing constantly for the acts you encouraged. she surrendered her life to a companion of yours, who stole her memories and completely turned her off, from the inside.

if hate was healing, some comfort would be granted.

grace is my savior. somehow the goodness she held, rests at the front of my head. my heart misses her, and every moment she fought you to love me.

hoping for your demise

a wounded soul