Shattered


My heart is an asylum,
for the wicked and insane.
My body is it's amusement.
I'm just there to entertain.

Bring your damaged, dangerous and filthy
To occupy a bed.
To beat and bruise my body
And worse yet mess with my head.

Abusive? Controlling? Cruel?
Narcissitic? Better still.
Beat me to a bloody pulp.
And with your words go in for the kill.

No pill will clear the madness.
No shrink will know the cause.
I'll spend my days worshiping your evil mastery
And at night cataloging my many flaws.

Death would be relief.
from this battle I never win.
But then where would all the crazies go
If I don't let them in?

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