She is Me


She sells me secrets under the stairs.
She hides within the walls.
She laughs a little funny when I beg to her and crawl.
She hovers over me cunningly,
when I'm sickly in withdrawal.
She holds my hair back when I need her,
so I give into her and feed her.
She grows into a giant, making me resent;
the many ways I go about just keeping her content.
Her attitude is rude,
so I bruise myself in use.
We both are connected.
I cannot be protected.

There she goes again,
back under the stairs;
disappearing into the walls.
She watches me, controllably,
waiting for me to fall.

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