My Murderer Poem by Rhianna Hayden

My enemies aren't quite what you'd presume,
they're simple objects that bring a cloud of gloom.

My mirror is my torment,
what fills my head with hate
it's power is to such extent
it stops me eating off my plate.

Other of my enemies are as simple as some thoughts,
they intertwine inside my mind,
and twist my stomach into knots.

They wound, stab and break me down,
cause such mental pain,
they suffocate me to extreme
and cause myself, to maim.

But how can they hold so much power,
without intrinsic velleity?
How can I hold them to blame,
when the problem must be me...